


surrender

by chimaekjin (symmetrophobic)



Series: hero's soup [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha are superheroes and felix is cute, Gen, M/M, Superhero!AU, basically all our favourite 2000 liners, mentions of nct and the yg treasure box boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/pseuds/chimaekjin
Summary: Like everyone else, Felix is just trying to adjust to his first year in uni, make new friends, and deny his blossoming not-so-subtle fanboy crush on a certain Defender, part of the team of superhero soldiers created by the government to protect the country.But it doesn’t take long for him to learn that there’s more to the mysterious Defenders, the enigmatic so-called Millennials, and even himself, than anyone has ever realised.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> day6 voice]] hhiiiii heEeEllo
> 
> so stray kids has got me Bad and in the midst of working on the got7 spy/inception au stuffs this happened to pop into my head :"") the universe was adapted from one i made for another fandom because i love secret identity superhero concepts too much for anyone's good!! and ofc went overboard bringing in other groups and making Lots of Space for a got7 spinoff (glhf with that i guess smh) 
> 
> i just really wanted anime protagonist felix ok
> 
> so THINGS might drag and get kind of confusing at first because establishing this universe got harder than originally thought and there's some mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell shit somewhere in there but i SWEAR we will get to our important cute gay stuff pronto
> 
> thanks for reading :""")

**1999**

The Millennium Surge happens a few nights after Christmas.

Across a certain area of Seoul, the lights wink out momentarily after midnight, leaving the city buried under a sleepy cover of snow, save for the headlights of cars and the confused flashing of torchlights in different households. It takes 10 minutes before they flicker back on, like nothing had ever happened.

 _The public utilities board apologises for the power outage,_ is the public announcement that goes out the next morning. _Have a happy new year._

Everyone forgets it and moves on, then.

Fast forward nine months later, and Felix Lee Yong-bok is born in a private hospital in Seoul to a pair of adoring parents and an excited little girl. He has large, curious eyes, dark tufty hair and wandering fists, like he’s trying to reach out and touch the world in front of him.

Once Felix is old enough, they pack up, sell the house, and move to Sydney, where Felix’s father is working on a business venture.

Life is simple, for now.

*

**2005**

Felix is 5 when the accidents start.

They watch the South Korean news, even in Sydney, because Felix’s mother is an editor for a magazine and needs to keep up with current affairs.

“Mom! Mom look, there was an explosion!” Rachel is pointing, over her cereal. Felix turns, little legs wobbling slightly from just having woken up, to stare at the television. He wishes he could talk as fast as Rachel does.

There’s something burning on the television screen. It’s cool. Felix likes fire. Fire means firetrucks, aka the coolest cars on the planet, and firefighters.

“… _six injured, no fatalities. Authorities are considering the possibility of a gas explosion, or foul play…”_

“What does it say?” Felix points, English words tumbling over one another in his haste to get them out. His mom does try to teach him Korean here and there, but she’s busy enough just trying to settle things at home and at work.

He stares at his mother (the prettiest girl in the world, according to Felix, second being Rachel), her kind but firm face set strangely. She has that look on her face, the kind when Rachel goes out to play with the neighbours without telling her, or when Felix trips on the sidewalk trying to run as fast as his sister does.

“It’s nothing,” she says in English, wearing back her smile when she looks at them. “Eat your cereal, Felix. Then we’re going to kindergarten.”

“Is Olivia coming?” Rachel sprints to the kitchen with her bowl, news report forgotten.

Felix looks back at the TV screen, eyes wide. Maybe fire isn’t so cool after all, he thinks solemnly, if it makes Mommy worried like this.

*

**2008**

Felix is 8 when he falls in love with superheroes.

_“…and the Defenders Project will employ the talents of Korea’s very own home grown superheroes, with the help of the Enhancements, dedicated to protect and defend the country.”_

“Doesn’t sound very compliant with human rights,” Felix’s father says over dinner that night, as the news plods on. He casts an annoyed glance at the television – today must’ve been a rough day at work.

“It’s superheroes!” Rachel cheers, and Felix nods. If Rachel likes it, then it must be good. “When are we going back to Korea? To see them?”

To her, Korea is still home, in a sense. But Felix doesn’t remember the place, and Olivia, on her booster seat carelessly spooning rice into her mouth, has never even seen it before.

“It’s not right,” their father continues firmly. “The government is using radiation to _change_ people genetically to give them superpowers. Who’s regulating this? Who decides who gets the Enhancements and has the power and responsibility to look after the rest of the country? Who watches over _them_?”

“I want to be a superhero!” Felix raises both his hands, getting some rice onto Olivia, who whines, glaring at him.

“Anyway,” their mother pulls the conversation back down to Earth, giving her husband a warning eye. “We might not ever be moving back, Rachel. And your father is right, there’s still a lot we don’t know about the Enhancements or the Defenders. The project might be called off if the public goes against it. They’re not due to officially start for a few years, anyway.”

Rachel looks disappointed, and Felix immediately does the same.

They wait till bedtime to whisper about the Defenders, superheroes watching over their hometown, far, far away in South Korea, and that night, Felix dreams of flying.

*

**2011**

Felix is 11 when the rumours begin.

There’s a little boy on the Korean news, face ashen, dressed poorly for the bitter winter cold, escorted by big, scary men in black suits, from a car into a white concrete building.

He shivers when he looks a little closer, to see what looks like long, white snake-shaped marks, curled around the boy’s neck, barely visible due to the poor video quality.

“ _…rumours of the so-called Millennium Surge are running wild, after the first official announcement of the Defenders Project three years ago…power outage caused an errant burst of radioactive energy the night before the year 2000 in the region of Seoul which might have resulted in the genetic mutation…”_

Felix is trying to do his homework, whilst at the same time catching bits and pieces of the news. He still can’t speak proper Korean, definitely not as well as Rachel does (but better than Olivia, who tunes out whenever their mother tries to teach her).

_“…unknown percentage of children born between January and September of the year 2000……Choi Raesung, eleven years old, taken into custody this morning for suspected involvement in…”_

He brightens up. _There’s_ a sentence he knows.

“Mom!” He points at the television, excited for the excuse to escape his homework, even for a second. “That boy’s my age!”

“Do your math problems,” his mother chides, walking over to the television. She stops, staring at the screen for a while, listening to the words Felix can’t understand.

“Is he going to _jail_?” Felix gapes. _That’s so cool_. But like, bad.

His mother turns back to look at him, then. He blinks, a little uneasy – was she this pale just now? Is there something on his face?

“Mom?”

She reaches over, brushing his hair back lightly, a familiar and comforting gesture, before pulling on a bracing smile. “Do your math, okay?”

Then she hurries off, picking up her phone and going into the kitchen.

*

**2014**

The Defenders Project is an instant success.

14-year-old Felix stares, enraptured, at the television, watching the people in the monochrome camouflage uniforms, heavy-duty combat boots and tinted visors take to the sky, soaring like airplanes, some shooting bright beams of light or lifting things five times as heavy as themselves.

“ _…and Seoul welcomes our first Defenders Unit, SJU!”_

“There’s going to be more of them?” Their father sighs. Business hasn’t been going too well over these few months.

Rachel still pays attention to the reports on the Defenders, even though she’s more into texting and makeup now. Olivia is sneaking broccoli off her plate into Felix’s.

Felix’s mother is watching him again, carefully. “What do you think of the Enhancements, ‘Lix-ah?”

“They’re cool,” he replies, stuffing a spoon of rice into his mouth and frowning at the influx of broccoli. Olivia sniggers into the back of her hand. “As long as the Defenders take care of us, right?”

“But what if people other than the Defenders get their hands on an Enhancement?” Rachel asks, losing interest in her phone. “That’ll be dangerous.”

Their mother nods without saying anything. Olivia starts talking about a Show and Tell presentation she’d had to make at her school, and they forget the topic and move on.

*

**2017**

The announcement comes out of nowhere.

_“…confirmed the existence of the Millennium Surge. An estimated 0.005% of children born in 2000 are suspected to be affected…mandatory proceeding to the nearest government building for Registration and tagging…”_

Felix is 17, now, thinking of cute boys, part-time jobs and college.

It’s the reason why he gets a shock when his parents talk about it over dinner that night.

“We’re moving back to Korea in a year or two,” his father says, with a wry smile. “Olivia and I will be staying a while more, Olivia to finish up school and for me to tie up the business. But Rachel, Felix and Mom will be heading back first, maybe next year or the year after next.”

Olivia grumbles and whines, but Rachel seems relatively prepared. After all, she does speak the best Korean out of the three of them. Their mother is still staring at the television, lips moving wordlessly to the report on the screen that Felix still can’t understand.

Rachel catches her mother’s gaze, and starts looking, too, though, so he suspects it must be something important. His Korean has improved enough for him to converse properly without tripping over every other sentence, but he still can’t understand the technical terms loaded into the subtitles blinking across the screen. The thought weighs heavy in his head, as he eats the rest of his dinner – how’s he going to get a uni placement like this? Or even a _job_?

Felix slumps down into bed that night, listening to Olivia sulking in her room next door and their father doing the dishes downstairs.

Rachel comes into his room, carrying a blazer. She’s almost done with college, now, she’ll be graduating next year. Life is moving too fast for Felix – what about his friends, here? What about school? He was _this_ close to topping his standard for Bio, _this_ close to getting to teach his own choreo with his dance crew – he’d _just_ gotten the number of that cute boy in his Calculus class, for crying out loud.

“’Lix-ah,” his sister says seriously. “You should start learning Korean.”

“Yeah,” he grumbles, throwing an arm over his face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Did you hear what was on the news just now?”

“Huh?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watching him pensively, cocking her head, like she’s trying to see him from a new angle. “Uhm, nothing,” she lifts her phone. “Here’s some language apps you can download, they teach you real fast.”

Felix suffers through months of home Korean tuition amidst high school graduation, and eventually picks up some semblance of the language as his friends all start to apply for colleges and universities, thanks to Rachel’s hard work.

It’s a year later when he thinks about the Defenders again, staring up at the ceiling, a month before they’re supposed to leave forever.

Maybe Korea doesn’t sound so bad, after all.

*

**2019**

Felix enters Yonsei University later than his same-age peers. He kills himself studying for the entrance exam, and somehow, by the skin of his teeth, manages to get a place. His Korean still leaves some things to be desired and there’s parts of the culture he’s still trying to get used to, but lying on his bed in a cheery, year-old apartment in Korea, thinking of everything he’s managed so far, this isn’t so bad.

“We’re so proud of you,” his mother gushes in her own quiet way when he moves into the university dorm, amidst the bustle of students doing the same around him. Rachel is already wrinkling her nose at the dust, inspecting everything in his new single room. “Remember to call us often, okay? And come visit us, we’re just over an hour away by train.”

“It’s just university, I’m not _dying_ ,” Felix grins, hugging both of them. “See you soon.”

Life is simple, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr there can never be enough superhero au in any fandom and angel decided to be the change she wanted to see in the world
> 
> kudos and comments will be appreciated and loved <3


	2. 001.

Felix hurries down the steps, bounding into the atrium, craning his neck to look over the bustling crowd. It’s been a few weeks here so far, and the club auditions and interviews have just started. Felix won’t lie – he’s pretty desperate to get into one of the university clubs. With no social circle from high school, his weekends have been relatively lonely, and he’s just hoping he’ll be able to find a solid group of friends soon.

He’s looking for Lee Chaeryeong, a genuinely nice girl he’d met in orientation camp and eventually stuck with (plus her group of girlfriends). She didn’t seem to care that he fumbled with his speech sometimes or didn’t know how to order fried chicken over the phone, and they’d hit it off immediately, chattering about where to eat the cheapest barbeque and the best noraebang spots just outside campus.

Felix just wishes he could say the same for her friends – while they’ve been accepting his presence in their daily lunch meetings and supper outings, he gets the feeling that some of them don’t exactly appreciate him being around.

“Oppa!” Someone grabs his arm, and he turns around into a blinding smile. Chaeryeong’s forever moving, like she’s unable to keep still, dark eyes sparkling, denim jacket sleeves brushing against his wrist. It was also an immense relief to Felix that they could be so comfortable despite both of them making it clear early on that the relationship was absolutely platonic. She points, then, into some barely discernible booth in the distance, crowded with people. “Dance booth’s over there, like I told you!”

Right, did he mention? He’d enjoyed dance in Australia, and had been looking forward to joining a dance club here in Korea. Chaeryeong apparently joined the crew here back when she was still in high school, and had promised to put in a good word for him ( _as if you need it_ , she’d scoffed).

“That’s my senpai,” she points proudly, once they’ve fought their way through the crowd to the booth.

Then the boy manning the booth looks up, and _wow_. Felix feels like he’s just walked into a J-rock concert, or something, because the guy is absolutely _gorgeous_. “Lee Minho- _ahjussi_.”

“Hey,” the boy smiles, his wide doe eyes crinkling, rolling in light exasperation at Chaeryeong’s jibe. “You must be Felix. Ryeongie’s told us all about you. I’m Lee Minho – just call me hyung.”

“He’s going to _kill_ the audition stage,” Chaeryeong says seriously, and Felix flushes.

“Chaeryeong, I’m not-…”

“Don’t act humble, I saw your freestyle during Science Talent Night at our camp,” the girl grins triumphantly. “He dances better than _you_ , ahjussi.”

“Alright, knock it off,” Minho laughs. “Shoo, go freestyle at the speakers and get attention. We still need applicants for the auditions.”

The girl salutes, making Felix laugh, as she picks up a fake rose from the basket on the table and props it carelessly in her hair, flicking through the playlist on the laptop and skipping off to the speakers. Some cookie cutter girl group pop song begins to play, and Minho adjusts the volume as he looks over at Felix. “So, you new here?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, a little awkwardly. “Just moved from Australia, actually.”

“Wow,” Minho looks honestly surprised. “ _Australia_? How long?”

Felix explains about his father’s business, and coming back with his mother and sister, and at the end of it, Minho looks impressed. “And you learnt Korean in a _year_?”

“A few years, and I learnt the basics when I was a kid,” the younger boy says hastily. “My mom and sister helped a bunch, I would’ve just given up if it weren’t for them.”

“ _Still_ , that’s pretty amazing. How’s it been so far?”

Felix grimaces, unable to lie. “A little lonely, I gotta admit.”

“Ahh,” the older boy says sympathetically. “Well, uni’s a fresh start? A friend of mine spent most of his childhood overseas too, but he’s been settling down pretty well here in the years he’s been back.”

“Yeah, I hope I can do the same,” Felix says, a little glumly.

“Hey,” Minho grins, then, nudging him. “You going for the Coronation this weekend?”

Felix frowns for a moment, wondering if he’d understood wrongly. “Coronation? Like, of a king?”

“No, cutiepie, the Defenders’ Coronation,” the older boy laughs. “Don’t you know about their swearing-in ceremony?”

“I didn’t really,” Felix confesses. “Uhm. Get to know much about them when I was in Australia.”

“Ah,” Minho’s eyes widen. “Sorry, it’s just hard to wrap my mind around it – the Defenders are all _anyone_ can talk about these days. You know, the people given Enhancements, uhm, superpowers? By the government to take care of the country? Every Unit debuts in Seoul, through the Coronation, that’s when they’re properly introduced to the nation, and take their pledge and stuff.”

“ _Debuts_ ,” Felix laughs. “Like a pop group?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Minho rolls his eyes with a knowing smile. “Research funding doesn’t pay for itself, you know? I bet half the capital invested into these guys comes from donations from their fanclubs.”

 _That_ makes Felix think. So far, he’s only seen the Defenders from an outsider’s point of view, stuck in his little bubble in Sydney, but now, open to the language and the people, he’s starting to understand he’s not the only one who sees the Defenders as _superheroes_.

“Well, come with us this weekend, if you’re free!” Minho smiles. “Ryeong and a couple of the dance kids are going too, it’s not too far from here. We’re meeting at one of the dorms at four-thirty and heading over together.”

“You say that like I’m already part of the crew,” Felix flushes. “I haven’t even auditioned yet!”

“Oh, well you see, if Chaeryeong votes for you,” the other boy directs Felix’s gaze to where the younger girl is currently burning up the dance floor, garnering cheers from the impromptu crowd that’s formed. “Then I’m pretty sure you’re good. Don’t worry about it, we’re all pretty chill here,” his eyes twinkle when he laughs. “See you this Saturday, then?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, unable to hold back a smile. “See you then!”

The relief of finally getting a proper group of friends here, on top of the mystique of this _Coronation_ , makes squeamish butterflies flutter in his stomach for the rest of the day, enough to keep him smiling all the way till the weekend.

_So why does it feel like it’s not going to last?_

*

“So where is this, uh, Coronation exactly?”

The evening wind blows stiffly against their faces as they trudge along the pavement from the subway. Dying sunlight melts in puddles on the pavement, peeking between tall, glassy buildings in the office district, and the roads here are surprisingly quiet.

“Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” Minho says casually. To their left, Chaeryeong is skipping along, half-dragging another girl. A few other uni students trail behind them, chatting about schoolwork. It seems like the Coronation is some sort of _social activity_ , almost, like going to watch a concert or something.

“Is it like, some parade square, out in a field, or something?” Felix squints in the evening light, thinking about the celebrations they have back in Australia.

Minho gives him an incredulous glance. The girl holding Chaeryeong’s hand overhears and giggles, hiding her face behind her hand, and Felix wonders, embarrassed for a moment, if he’s mispronounced something.

“Well, I mean, I guess there’s a parade,” he says, genuinely thinking about it, as they start walking across a large, silver bridge. “And a square.”

The water laps at the shore far below them as they start to cross the river, and Felix tries his best to imagine it. He’d envisioned something like a procession in the middle of town, or some sort of ceremony near a government building. Definitely not something near a _river._

“I just had the impression, you know, it’d be something a bit…bigger…” Felix trails off at the sound of booming music, looking over the gleaming bridge to see some…some _thing_.

He stops, then, to fully take in the sight of it. The only way to describe it is a giant white _platform_ , floating on the coast of the marina, surrounded by hulking black scaffolding rising like cliffs from the water, holding up screens and speakers he can’t properly see from this angle. Music is booming from the speakers and the live symphonic band playing on the platform, the sound of trumpets ringing clearly through the sleepy air.

Across the platform, in an organised splash of blue, red, white and black, colours of the national flag, are rows upon rows of seats, like one for a sports event, going all the way up from the ground to reach the top. Already, people are beginning to fill up the seats, forming a constantly fluid patchwork against the bright colours of the seats.

With the bass drum of the band rumbling in his veins, the festive colours blossoming in the distance, the crowds of people walking over and chattering in excitement, it feels… _strange._ Exciting, like he’s part of something bigger that he can’t see.

“They built this for the first Coronation, but they hold a bunch of other national events here too,” Minho points, tugging gently on Felix’s hand to get them moving again. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“ _Super_ cool,” Felix grins, walking just a little bit faster to catch up with the rest. Who _knew_ things had changed so much since the last time he knew anything about Korea?

Minho flashes his ID card once they’re at the entrance (“ _my boyfriend got us tickets_ ,” he explains, with just the slightest hint of a smug grin) and they climb the stairs up, emerging at what Felix realises is the centre portion, seats painted blazing red.

The view here is _amazing_ – the skyline melts into the orange-blue sky, sunlight glancing off little lips where the river drifts towards the sea, and the excitement, thrumming through the veins of the people around him and bubbling over in gushing, ecstatic chatter, makes Felix feel like jumping around. Already, Chaeryeong is taking to it, pointing excitedly to everything around them, hopping in little skips.

Felix is forced to duck out of the way of a gigantic camera, on the shoulder of a bored-looking cameraman, standing on the steps, waiting for a go signal through his earbud.

“Oh, they like to film the audience reactions,” Minho mentions casually. “The live broadcast gets a little boring without it.”

“They’re putting this on _live broadcast_?”

“Yeah, KBS and MBC had a _terrific_ bitchfight over the broadcasting rights when the Defenders first got announced,” the older boy grins, as they approach their seats. “SBS didn’t even bother, they went straight for negotiating press release exclusives. There’s a ton of money to be made here, even for people who’ve got nothing to do with the Defenders,” he nods to the rest, straggling behind to look around in awe. “C’mon guys, our seats are here, the event’s starting already.”

Felix ends up between Chaeryeong and Minho, sitting in a daze through the emcee’s voice (they got an _emcee_ for this event) blaring over the booming speakers, suspended over the river, saying things too quick and loud for him to entirely hear. He does manage to catch something about _the new guard_ , something about _perfect track record_.

“This is my favourite part!” Chaeryeong whispers loudly to Felix, shaking him out of his stupor. “They’re going to bring out the members from the other Units!”

Felix jumps when the music swells, embarrassed when he feels Minho patting his arm reassuringly. The crowd is starting to cheer, escalating into screams as the water behind the stage starts to move and tremble. It’s _bubbling_ , turning into a frothing frenzy visible even through the gentle waves, like something’s burning within.

Then, something _bursts_ out from the surface, shooting past the giant LED screen into the sky like a bullet, accompanied by a burst of sapphire blue firework-like sparks, before slowing down to a gentle cruise in the sky.

“ _S…J…U!”_

“That’s a member of the very first Unit,” Minho whispers. “They get one member of every Unit to show up for each Coronation, usually the leader. We don’t actually know if it’s them though,” he snorts. “With the helmets they wear all the time.”

“ _T…P…M!”_

Felix stares as the second one goes up, accompanied now by metallic silver sparks, and the announcer just keeps going. How many Units _are_ there, exactly?

As if sensing his question, Minho leans over. “There are 8 Units, including the one being introduced today. Each Unit’s got about three or four members – they patrol and work together in Seoul for their first year or so, then get decentralised to the countryside.”

“ _E…X…O!”_

This announcement garners more screams than the previous ones had, and Felix looks a little alarmed. Minho laughs quietly. “The newer Units have more fans – they’ve been ramping up their fanservice, lately. I think they’re running low on capital.”

_“W…I…N!”_

“Fanservice?” Felix scoffs a little. “Are they idols or superheroes?”

Minho raises a brow. “What’s the difference, except for the fact that one can fly?”

_“G…O…T!”_

Felix watches in wonder as the newest figure in the black camouflage, special ops uniform corkscrews into the sky, sunlight glinting off the water, falling like sheets of crystal from his body. The white words on his back seem to glisten in the aftermath of the turquoise green sparks, projected onto the giant LED screen: _JB07,_ before he joins the rest, now circling majestically in the orange-pink sky.

“Their names are always abbreviated into two letters, two numbers. We don’t know how they pick it, but it’s probably a stupid way,” Minho says over the noise, making Felix laugh.

“ _N…C…T!”_

This one gets the loudest cheers yet, deafening the stadium. He’s starting to understand why a majority of the audience here are girls. This one, _TY88,_ actually turns to face the camera on his way up, fingers doing a lazy salute against the gleaming black of his tinted visor, that has a wave of screams rocking the open air stadium.

“ _Wow,_ ” Felix can’t deny that his heart is pounding, too, from the excitement crackling thick in the air. Beside him, Chaeryeong and her friend are jumping up and down, smacking each other and screaming.

“Pretty hot, isn’t it?” Minho smirks, and Felix flushes. But the announcer grabs their attention all again, as he starts talking about the newest Unit.

“ _…years of practice and preparation, all to culminate in this moment, to serve the nation,_ ” the cheers of the audience rise and fall in tandem with the announcer, but Felix can tell everyone is waiting with bated breath for the announcement.

“ _…and Seoul welcomes our eighth Defenders Unit,”_ the announcer gestures, for dramatic effect, towards the sky. “ _S…K…Z!”_

On cue, there’s the whistling sound of wind right above their ears, and Felix jerks his head up whilst crouching slightly, looking at the sky. In the air, in a perfect triangle formation, three figures in black shoot like fighter jets over them. They spread out in the sky, joining the other Defenders high up, before twirling back.

With a synchrony that would make a professional dance crew weep in envy, the Defenders begin to descend, coming to a casual hover above the white platform, before all taking a deep bow whilst the crowd cheers.

Felix only realises he’d been holding in a breath when the announcer starts talking again, and the Defenders from other Units ascend again, flying off one by one, now that their job is done.

Each screen is dedicated to showing each member of the newest unit, waving to an enthusiastic crowd, white words emblazoned across their back glinting when they turn around.

“ _Introducing the nation’s newest leader, CB97!”_

The centre one rises slightly above the other two, bowing low in the air to the crowd. Even from the camera angle, it’s clear that he’s slightly broader than the others, carrying himself with a more watchful air.

The audience gasps, then, when a black chain and a lantern, surrounded by some sort of shimmery shield, materialises in his hands, the hook at the end of the chain swinging idly. Both seem to thrum with some sort of dark energy, flickering in the light like flames, before they disappear, and he bows again.

“Those are his Enhancements,” Minho informs, over the clapping. “They usually give everyone a sneak peek at their powers.”

“ _J-1!”_

The one on the right perks up, rising in a little spurt to bow enthusiastically, receiving a wave of screams in return, showing off the _JS01_ emblazoned on his back when he dips down. He’s nimbler than CB, moving in lithe little leaps rather than steady movements.

With a theatrical twist to his wrist, then, a glowing gold spear appears in his right hand, the tip glittering brightly, and the audience cheers again. To Felix’s left, Minho is clapping, eyes shining. “Aren’t they cool?”

“ _Last but not least,”_ the announcer drags it out, though everyone’s seen the name on the last member now. “ _SpearB!”_

Out of the three, _SP13_ is just slightly smaller, leaner, moving with a relaxed, prowling sort of grace the other two don’t have. He lifts one hand, waving with a barely-there, self-sufficient sort of nod, received with the same amount of affection as had been given to the other two.

This time, there’s a tension in the air, of five thousand or so people all leaning forward to see what this guy can do.

 _SpearB_ rises slightly, nodding to the announcer below them, then to _CB97_ , like there’s something he’d already planned. Then he looks up.

And vanishes.

Except in his place now is the announcer, looking comically bored, like he’s tired of having to do something dramatic every year, suspended in the air for a second, before starting to plummet. There’s a loud gasp from the audience, which mounts into a scream as _SP13_ shoots like a bullet from the ground, the exact spot where the announcer had been just now, and scoops him cleanly out of the air.

The crowd explodes into cheers as _SpearB_ lowers the announcer safely to the ground, before rejoining the other two above.

“That’s a totally new Enhancement!” Minho raises a brow, clapping. “I’ve never seen someone who could switch places with other people like that before.”

Felix finds himself staring at the screen of the last one, _SP13_ , drawn to the calm confidence radiating in the way he holds himself, rising back up in the air, watching the world through his dark visor like he owns it, as the announcer continues to talk, relatively unfazed by the fact that he’d just been in a death-defying freefall moments ago.

Superimposed against the river and the skyline, in the smart monochrome camouflage uniform and sleek, gleaming visor, the world seems to fade away around the Defender, till he’s the only thing in focus.

_Wow._

Felix finds it difficult reminding himself that this moment is constructed, carefully put together, with the sole purpose of drawing dedicated fans willing to open their wallets. It’s so much simpler to sigh and stare at the boys in the sky, letting one’s mind wander to the mystery of the faces behind the uniform and visor.

“ _Presenting once more, South Korea’s 8 th Defenders’ Unit, SKZ!_”

The three shoot up into the sky, and Felix jumps a little in alarm as everyone raises their arms eagerly, some even going so far as to stand. This must be a regular thing, or something.

“Raise your hands, Felix!” Minho says, eyes sparkling as he smiles. “They’re going to do their first greeting!”

 _What greeting_ , Felix wants to say over the noise of the symphonic band starting again, but he raises his arms blindly anyway, finally understanding when the three Defenders arc their flight pattern in the sky, and start to descend towards them.

Screams rise in the crowd as they swoop down, and Felix sees _CB97_ pass in a whir of black and grey over the crowd in front of them, just low enough to reach out and touch the raised hands. Immediately, he looks around hopefully, _are the rest of them going to do the same?_

Chaeryeong shrieks, then, as a lightning shadow passes over them, and Felix can just catch the _JS01_ on the uniform as the Defender soars past above them. He passes too fast to touch Felix, but Felix sees Minho’s eyes light up when the Defender’s hand meets his for a split second, laughter bubbling out of his mouth when he sits back down.

The sound is contagious, and before he knows it, Felix is smiling too. Everything is so _euphoric_ , the music, the excitement, the _people_ – it’s a high he’s never experienced before, even back in Australia.

He’s too busy staring at the disappearing figure of _J-1_ to properly hear the crescendo of screams around him, then, his hand still dumbly raised into the sky, and gasps out loud at the feeling of rough fabric brushing against his fingers, head whipping to the sky just in time to see, up close (probably the one and only time in his life), the white _SP13_ tag woven into a uniform.

Like the moment is in slow motion, he stares straight into a darkened visor then, seeing his own face reflected in the glassy surface, eyes wide and mouth open, before the Defender passes, going straight on into the next sector.

Felix’s heart is hammering in his chest. He gets it now, actually _gets it,_ the screaming and the media coverage and the idol worship.

 _If they ever have merchandise for these guys_ , he thinks feverishly, _I’m going to clear out SpearB’s stock_.

The event proceeds on, after that, going into a demonstration by the new Unit, then a video feature of the Defenders’ accomplishments since the last Coronation, then a serious ceremony, properly inducting the three new Defenders into the force.

Felix finds his head buzzing with the magic of it all as he stumbles back towards the subway with the rest that night, Chaeryeong’s excited chatter about _TY was so cool we love him_ going in one ear and out the other. He’s starting to understand, now, why the country idolises their protectors.

(For better or for worse.)

“So, how was your first Coronation?” Minho asks on the subway back, looking smug. Felix can only laugh distractedly, the memory of today burned into the back of his eyelids.

“Pretty cool,” he muses, nodding half to himself. “I think I get it now. The deal with the Defenders. They’re more than just faceless policemen with superpowers watching over the country – they’re _heroes._ ”

Minho’s watching him carefully now, like he’s measuring him up, he realises. Felix blinks.

“Come to lunch with me on Monday,” the older boy says, then, out of nowhere. He’s smiling a soft kind of smile.

“I want to introduce you to my boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roars in changlix
> 
> so i was supposed to upload this along with the prologue yesterday but i was a dumb and forgot so here it is now folks
> 
> big apologies for the wall of exposition, i promise it'll be more storytelling rather than story-telling in the future chapters + more of skz properly introduced asap! also i know it seems like it's going to get majorly multifandomy but for those who are worried, i promise the main focus will stay with skz!! \o/ 
> 
> comments and kudos will be treasured and loved, they help this broke(n) writer stay afloat
> 
> p.s. 3racha's powers were based off of league of legends champions if anyone who wants to guess which ones!! cbj1 are a '16 dream botlane


	3. 002.

Felix almost forgets about the lunch on Monday, apologising to Chaeryeong at the last minute as they leave lecture and explaining why he can’t go to lunch with her and the girls today. She nods, understanding as always – she must’ve sensed that Felix was getting uncomfortable with the other girls, too.

He hurries down to the cafeteria that Minho had texted him about, spotting the older boy at a round table near the edge of the room. There’s only one other person with him, an older guy, leaning over and talking to him – that must be his boyfriend.

Trying to keep his breathing down, he pulls on a smile to mask the nervousness and bounds up, waving to Minho.

“Felix!” The other boy brightens.

“Hey, Minho hyung!” Felix grins, before turning to the other guy, with calm eyes and a languid sort of smile, his hair dyed dirty blonde with hints of blue. “You must be his boyfriend!”

Immediately, he senses he must’ve said something wrong, because the other boy’s eyes widen, looking at Minho, and the two of them burst out into laughter.

“No, no not him,” Minho giggles. “ _Ew_ , gross. My boyfriend’s still on the way. This is Chan, he’s his final year studying music here, we usually all hang out together. Don’t ask why, I don’t know either.”

“I’m _older_ than you,” the other boy scowls, before turning to Felix, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m Chan, the one who has to deal with their shit all the time. Minho said you just moved here, right?”

“Yeah,” Felix flushes, embarrassed about the mistake. “Sorry about the mix-up. Uh, yeah, I grew up in Sydney, moved here last year.”

Chan raises both hands, then, looking blown away. “Wait, what?” He switches effortlessly to English, then. “Seriously mate?”

Felix’s jaw drops.

“Wait, you’re,” he fumbles through his Korean, eventually giving up and speaking English instead. “You’re from Australia too?”

“Yeah, moved to Sydney when I was little and came back,” Chan grins, high-fiving Felix and pulling him in for a quick hug. He turns back, switching back to Korean. “Minho, you didn’t say he was from Australia!”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Minho admits apologetically, but he looks pleased that the two of them are getting along so well. “This is the friend I was telling you about, Felix.”

“I just-…wow,” Felix can’t find the words to express himself for a moment, overwhelmed with emotion at finally finding someone else who _understands_. “It’s just – I miss Australia so much, I didn’t think I’d find anyone here who grew up there too.”

“I know how you feel,” Chan throws an arm over him, hand patting his shoulder reassuringly, with a grin. “Well, now that we’ve officially adopted this one, might want to tell us when your boyfriend is going to decide to show up, Minho-ah.”

As if on cue, then, someone stumbles up to their table, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His dyed blond hair is windswept, eyes bright, clothes slightly messy, but there’s something undeniably handsome about his features – is _everyone_ in Minho’s clique good looking, or something? “Hyung!”

“Jisung!” Something in Minho’s voice changes when he speaks to the boy, reaching out with an arm over the table as the boy slides into the chair next to him, wrapping his arms around the older boy almost instantly. “Where were you?”

Beside Felix, Chan pretends to throw up.

“Sorry, got held up at class,” Jisung is practically glued to Minho’s side. He’s kind of like a squirrel, perky and bushy-tailed, curious eyes exploring the world around them. “Who’s the new stray?”

“This is Felix,” Minho says proudly, unceremoniously pushing Chan aside to pat Felix. “He joined the dance crew last week. Felix, this is Jisung, my boyfriend, he’s studying mass communications, in his second year.”

“Thanks,” Chan grumbles, Minho’s jacket sleeve in his face.

“He’s cute,” Jisung coos, making Felix go red. “How old are you?”

“I was born in 2000,” Felix replies, and the other boy grins, then, reaching over to high-five him.

“Same! _Finally_ , it’s been so tiring hanging out with these old fogies, Minho-hyung not included,” the squirrel boy snickers, “millennials _unite_ ,” he declares in wobbly English, and Chan gives him a _look_. “Not _that_ kind of Millennial, hyung, you know what I mean.”

“What kind of millennial?” Felix asks, trying not to laugh, but no one seems to hear.

“There are a couple of others I asked over, but they couldn’t make it today, so we’re just waiting for one more person,” Minho checks the time. “Ah, hyung, when’s he going to get here?”

“He told me he was on the way from lessons,” Chan glances at his phone. “He usually doesn’t check his messages. Should be anytime now, though.”

“What’s his name?” Felix feels brave enough to ask, but just then, Jisung stands, almost knocking the table over, to wave violently to two girls, walking in the lunch crowd.

“Junghyun-ah!” He cups his hands around his mouth to yell. Immediately, the older of the two turns around with a glare, which slides off her face once she sees who it is, replaced by an exasperated eyeroll. “Save me a seat in lecture later!”

Felix is a little freaked out by the glare girl, which leaves him totally unprepared for when the younger girl turns around, laughing.

Shock rattles him to the bottom of his stomach, as he stares at the girl. She’s extremely pretty in a mature sort of way, with a lovely face shape and wide eyes, long dark hair tumbling down her pink and white varsity jacket, eyes turning into crescents when she smiles.

But all this does is highlight what Felix can only describe as a splash of _white_ on her skin, starting from above the right side of her upper lip, extending across her cheek and nose, ending right below her left eye.

“It’s _Xiyeon._ Call me Junghyun again and you’ll be saving your own seat, Han Jisung,” she calls, and the other girl laughs, before they walk off into the lunch crowd, Jisung looking rather pleased with himself.

Felix feels a stab of shame immediately at his shock. _It’s probably a genetic skin condition. Felix, your mother taught you better than to judge other people like this._

“You know Nayoung’s going to accidentally kill you one day,” Minho comments, checking his phone.

“With the guys who used to bully Xiyeon all the time, it’s no wonder,” Chan says, frowning. “It’s not like she _chose_ to be a Millennial.”

“Sorry,” Felix pipes up hesitantly, then, and all of them turn to look at him, like they’ve just remembered he’s there. “What you mean by that? Millennial?”

“Oh,” Minho says, glancing back and forth between Jisung and Chan worriedly, for a moment. “Ah. By Millennial we mean-…”

“Haven’t you heard of the Millennial Surge?” Chan asks, in English, then.

The other two go quiet. Felix blinks – that does ring a bell, but not enough to properly recall anything. “Uhm, no, sorry.”

“It’s not anything big,” Chan continues with a calming smile, but from the look on Jisung’s face at that sentence, Felix can probably guess that he understands what Chan’d said, and disagrees. “You know the Defenders, and their Enhancements right?” When Felix nods, he continues.

“Basically, well,” Chan half-shrugs. “What happened is that a couple of nights before New Year’s in 2000, there was a blanket power outage, pretty much out of nowhere. It accidentally released a surge of the radiation they were experimenting with across most of Seoul. Of course, it wasn’t strong enough to affect adults, or even kids,” Chan’s smile turns a hint wooden here, as he glances at the other two. “Just unborn babies."

"Hence, the term Millennials," Jisung finishes quietly.

Felix is staring, eyes wide. “L-like me?”

“Oh, no,” Chan shakes his head, chuckling. “They say it affected less than 0.005% of the infants born in South Korea that year,” _he’s oddly specific about that statistic_ , Felix thinks. _And that’s still a lot of infants_. “The chances of getting it are really low, so you’re good! Besides, most of the affected kids Manifest by about 12, and you’re already 19, right?”

Felix nods in confirmation cautiously, glancing at the other two, before switching back to Korean. “So that girl, Xiyeon…she’s a Millennial?”

“She’s _the_ Millennial,” Minho smiles wryly. “She’s the face of the government’s Millennial Societal Reintegration program, or the MSR. The good looks and the harmless Enhancement probably helps – everyone probably feels pretty safe around a girl who can memorise and reproduce every piece of music on every instrument with just one listen.”

“The Mark, the white pigmentation on their skin, usually appears when they Manifest, sometimes on the face, or the torso, or the hands. We don’t really know why,” Chan says helpfully. “Like a lot of the others, she used to be shy about her Mark, but she embraced it eventually, which is the entire aim of the Reintegration program.”

Jisung scoffs, here, shaking his head.

“You sound like a government infomercial, hyung,” he grins, before turning to Felix. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but the Millennials are just kids, like you and me. A lot of them faced shit from society, even from their family and friends, when they Manifested,” he sighs. “Especially if their Mark’s obvious, like Xiyeon’s. But they’re trying their best,” he finishes, smiling tightly.

Whether _they_ refers to the Reintegration program or the Millennials, Felix never finds out, because just then, Chan lets out a sigh of relief, mumbling a _finally_ , and Felix turns to the direction he’s looking at.

And just then, his heart does an embarrassing little skip in his chest.

A boy diffuses from the group he’d been walking with, then, cap pulled low over his head, so when he looks up from his phone, his eyes bore dark holes straight through Felix through his light gold framed glasses rims. A piercing is dangling from his ear over his black bag strap, slung over his denim jacket, open to reveal the black shirt and jeans he’s wearing underneath.

Felix feels tongue-tied for a moment, watching the way the guy _walks_ , steps oozing lazy confidence, but light and powerful at the same time. He’s just a little shorter than Felix, maybe, but there’s an energy simmering within him that Felix can _feel_ , waiting to leap out at any moment.

“ _Seo Changbin_ ,” Chan chides, reminding Felix of his mother. “What time is it now, exactly?”

Changbin, if that’s his name, drops his bag in the seat opposite Chan. “Time to eat. Did I miss a memo?”

He glances at Felix for the first time, then. “Did Minho-hyung kidnap another one?”

“For your information, he came of his own free will,” Minho argues, as Jisung laughs. “Be nice to the new guy, why don’t you? Felix-ah, the goth smurf with zero sense of time over there is Changbin, he’s a bit of an asshole but he makes nice music.”

“Wow, hyung,” Changbin clutches his chest, voice flat. Felix can’t keep his eyes off the way his piercings glint in the rays of sunlight pouring in from behind them. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“Okay, okay, go get your food, all of you,” Chan chivvies them off, and just like that, the previous conversation is neatly shelved and forgotten. “Changbin, be a good host. Accompany Felix to get lunch.”

“No, no it’s okay, really-…”

“Why?” The edge of Changbin’s lips tilt up in a faint smile, then, giving Felix a once-over. His eyes are _burning_ cold, but so alive at the same time. “Scared I’ll bring your average attractiveness down, cutie?”

Felix swallows, sensing Jisung giggling behind him as the other boy heads off with Minho. “Not that, it’s just, I’ve been here a while, I can manage.”

“You tried the pasta from the café downstairs, yet?”

“Uhm,” the younger boy hesitates, wondering where this is going. “No…?”

"Doesn't sound like managing to me,” Changbin grins, nudging him. “C’mon. The carbonara’s a bomb.”

*

Despite the strong first impression, Felix learns quickly as they queue for the pasta that Changbin is so much more than just a cool face. All of this is doing nothing to stop the dumb, adolescent crush, growing like wildfire in Felix’s chest.

“All the way from Australia?” The other boy’s tapping a plastic fork to his lips while they wait for their queue number to be called. “Damn, just like Chan-hyung, then. How’s it been so far?”

“Pretty okay,” Felix’s been asked this enough times to get tired of the question, but he feels the obligation to spell it out for Changbin. “A little lonely sometimes. But I’ve got my mom and my sister, and the rest of my family is coming over next year. Plus everyone’s been super nice here so far,” he offers a smile. “What about you?”

“Me? I was born and raised in Yongin – the infrastructure’s good but it’s too crowded,” Changbin grins, revealing a flash of perfect white. “It’s my third year here.”

“Ah, are you the same age as Minho, then?”

“Nope, a year younger,” Changbin shrugs. “Got directly into my second year from the courses I took at my previous school. I don’t know how either, but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know?”

“Do you do music, like Chan?”

“Nope, computer science,” the older boy is nibbling idly on the edge of his fork. His lips look unfairly soft against the white plastic. “Had to do it as part of my scholarship. Music’s more of a side hobby.”

“Wow,” Felix says, genuinely awed. “You must be really smart, then, hyung.”

The older boy laughs. It’s more of a bark than a laugh, raw and with the slightest rasp that echoes in Felix’s head for hours after it’s over. “That’s nice of you to say, thanks Felix. I’m not, just got lucky, I guess. You’re not doing too bad yourself, managing to get into Yonsei after learning Korean for such a short time.”

“Ah, my mom and sister made me study hard when I was in Australia,” Felix shrugs. “It’s all thanks to them, really, I would be a delinquent otherwise.”

“Fancy that,” Changbin says, half to himself, watching Felix through lidded eyes and a half-smile. The sight of it makes Felix’s heart do weird things in his chest. “Hey, you been outside to eat around campus before?”

“Uh, yeah! Chaeryeong, she’s a friend from Bio, she brought me to some of the cafes around here with her friends,” Felix tries to remember. “There were nice waffles.”

“You ever go to the _naengmyeon_ place two streets away?”

Felix scrambles to decode _naengmyeon_ for a moment. “Uh, no, I don’t think so. Why?”

“It’s the best, and they make killer dumplings,” the older boy grins. “Chan and I are heading there one of the nights this week after our music stuff, you wanna come with?”

“Oh,” Felix feels his neck grow warm, hoping desperately that it isn’t too obvious. “Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

Changbin’s queue number flashes in red on the little light board at the counter, then, and he takes out his phone, unlocking it and going to the keypad. “Give me your number? I’ll text you when we confirm a date.”

“Okay,” the younger boy nods, feeling his heart pound as he takes the phone, and the other boy leaves for the counter to get his food.

_He’s just asking for your number because you’re friends with his friends, now, don’t be dumb, Felix._

Felix saves his number, checking the light board for his own queue number, before he glances at the phone, still warm in his hand. It’s sleeved in a plain black cover, looking relatively new - until he notices something out of place.

The front camera’s blurred, the surface rough when he touches it. It’s been sandpapered down, he realises, and he turns the phone over, realising the same’s been done to the camera on the back. Felix tries to remember where he’s seen this before, and it comes to him eventually – a family friend back in Sydney had to do it too, when they worked in a government sector dealing with sensitive documents.

_But why would Changbin have to do the same…?_

Then the boy in question comes back, holding a black plastic bag, and Felix quickly wipes the confusion from his face, handing back the phone as his own queue number flashes on the light board. 

The walk back is calm, just talking about mid-terms and nice places to eat around school, and Felix can’t help but think that all this new information does is just heighten the mystique surrounding Seo Changbin.

Fuck, he’s falling hard, isn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a few chapters already prewritten so decided to go ahead and post this one first! updates might get a little slower from here on out but i just wanted to bring in more members first so people don't give up on this fic yeah!! 
> 
> i think from this chapter alone a lot of people can probably already tell where the fic's headed, so YAY i hope you guys enjoy it! ;u; really excited to see what you guys think about the boys so far hehe, is the minsung bias showing yet oops
> 
> p.s. as mentioned in the last chapter 3racha's powers are based off of league champions, thanks for guessing guys hehe! chan is based off [dark star thresh](https://na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/Thresh/), jisung based off [skt t1 kalista](https://na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/Kalista/)! was torn between irelia/kaisa for jisung and alistar/tahm kench (he gon eat them) for chan but i really wanted them to be a coordinated botlane (was this close to xayah/rakan) so kalista/thresh it is! changbin's one is still open for guesses HAHA hint, it's a pre-rework kinda fugly champion
> 
> big hearts guys!! kudos and comments will be truly appreciated and loved and spur this ageing soul to hurry and write!! \o/


	4. 003.

Thursday night comes all too soon.

Felix heads out, cracking his brain to try and figure out Naver Maps, before giving up and taking a scenic route down the café street towards the _naengmyeon_ place Changbin had told him about.

Everyone’s out and about, couples holding hands and giggling as they stroll to their next destination, high school students in groups with their faces pressed to window displays, and university kids just out for a breath of fresh air.

Lunch these few days have been spent with Minho and his friends, and Felix has never felt more at home in the weeks here than he has with them. It’s so _easy_ to talk to Jisung, the boy with the permanent smile and squirrel cheeks, and he can tell the other boy is relieved to have someone of the same age around too. And Chan is, of course, a blessing from the heavens above to Felix’s shabby little life – what were the odds, honestly, of him meeting someone else raised in Sydney, someone who could share all the homesickness and the nostalgia?

And _then_ there’s Changbin…

He reaches the shop, and it’s no wonder why he’s never been inside before – the place is nondescript but homey, hidden in a corner, like a secret waiting to be told. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, wincing when a gust of cold evening wind blows past.

“Felix?”

Someone taps his shoulder and then ducks away, making him whirl around almost 360 degrees, before he hears the sound of laughter.

Changbin stands just inches away from him, grinning. He’s changed out his piercing for a simple stud today, and is wearing a black hoodie with skinnies, hair looking softer than ever in the streetlights.

“He does that all the time, never seems to get tired of it,” Chan strolls up, then, rolling his eyes, and Changbin huffs, heading into the restaurant first.

“So, you guys come here often, hyung?” It feels weird, talking to Chan with honorifics in Korean but switching back to something more casual when they’re speaking in English. The older boy laughs, as they approach the table Changbin’s managed to snag.

“Once in a while. When Binnie gets cravings,” Chan grins.

“I don’t get _cravings_ ,” Changbin scowls. Through his golden circular frames, the sight melts Felix’s heart a little. “The food here’s just _nice_ , okay?”

This claim is almost completely disproven when he rattles off an order to the friendly ahjumma later, though, like he’s memorised the menu.

“Felix, is just _naengmyeon_ okay?” He asks casually, in the middle of the order. “You want to try anything else?”

“Nope, just that is fine,” Felix smiles, pressing his hands under his thighs on the cushioned seat to will down the butterflies in his stomach. This is helped by the fact that he can see Chan watching him carefully, on the other side of the table.

“…and six dumplings,” Changbin says, after a moment’s deliberation. “Thank you!”

_Fuck, he’s even cuter when he smiles._

“So, how’s the first month of school been?” Chan asks seamlessly, as the ahjumma walks away, relaying the orders to the kitchen. Felix makes a face, and he laughs. “That bad already?”

“I made myself promise not to fall asleep in lecture this semester,” Felix says glumly. “It’s barely been a month and it’s happened thrice.”

Changbin lets out another barking laugh. “Don’t worry, it’ll be happening lots more in the future. I’m just glad this school puts up recordings on the learning portal, Chan-hyung and I would be dead without those.”

“Ahem, unlike _you_ , I actually go for lectures,” the oldest boy says, brow raised, as he starts distributing chopsticks.

“Yeah, okay, but sometimes we don’t have a choice, you know,” Changbin shrugs, still grinning, before turning back to Felix. “How are the other Bio kids? Seems like you guys are the only ones with any brains on top of a passable dress sense in the school.”

 _Oh, you’re doing pretty well yourself, trust me_.

“Fashion week in the Bio Science building’s nothing compared to the Business kids,” Felix shrugs, gratefully accepting a cup of water from Chan.

“Business students are all evil. Minho-hyung is living proof of that,” Changbin takes out his phone, then, checking a message that’d just come in. The phone, one of the latest in the Samsung series, is also in a black cover, Felix observes, but something’s _different_ -…

“Hey, you’ve got two phones?” He asks, without really thinking it through. “This one has working cameras!”

The atmosphere seems to _change_ , then – Felix sees Changbin’s eyes flick to Chan, something like panic flashing through them momentarily, and Chan’s brows crease, realisation dawning in his eyes. But the moment’s over, so quick that Felix finds it hard to believe it was ever there.

“Oh yeah, one of them is a hand-me-down from my uncle,” Changbin shrugs. “I use it to play MapleStory in lectures.”

Felix laughs, and so does Chan. _Maybe he really had imagined that moment after all._

It’s hard to think about that, then, because the food comes, and it’s everything Felix had ever imagined and more.

The _naengmyeon_ itself is just the right blend of spicy, sour and frigid cold, and paired with a cup of hot, peppery soup, it’s _perfection_ in itself. Changbin somehow manages to avoid the temptation of the noodles, instead carefully cutting up the dumplings into bite-sized pieces with the scissors on the table.

“If you think the _naengmyeon_ is good, wait till you try the _mandu_ ,” Chan grins, seeing Felix’s expression.

All in all, it’s the best meal Felix has had in a while – they talk about music (Chan and Changbin “mess around” in a friend’s studio with Jisung, according to Chan, but Felix listens to one mixtape, and to call it anything less than straight fire would be an understatement), family (Chan is the eldest in his family, he talks a lot about his brother but not so much his sister, Changbin has an older sister he looks up to more than the world), and the best places to nap around school (Business library study pods, hands down, thanks Minho-hyung). He doesn’t even realise when an hour has passed, and they’re finished with the food, consuming more complimentary soup than what’s probably healthy.

Chan gets a call in the middle of a heated debate about Red Velvet or Blackpink as the better girl group, and his eyes light up when he sees the caller ID.

“Sorry, I gotta take this - this conversation isn’t over,” he points at Changbin warningly, getting up. “I do not appreciate this disrespect for Irene.”

“Thanks for paying, hyung,” Changbin singsongs, as Chan leaves. He grins at Felix, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Probably the guy he’s got a super big adolescent crush on.”

“I _heard that_ , you little gremlin!”

Felix laughs nervously – to this point, he still has no clue if Changbin likes boys or girls (or both? Both is good), and the boy bolts down more soup.

“So, you dating anyone so far?”

Felix chokes on his soup at the casual bomb drop. “Uhm,” he coughs into a tissue, turning red. “N-not really.”

“Really? Someone like you? I’m surprised the suitors aren’t knocking your door down,” Changbin laughs.

“There were a few girls,” Felix mumbles, _yeah_ , a couple of girls had asked him out ( _another_ reason why it’s awkward to hang around Chaeryeong’s clique anymore). “I wasn’t really interested.”

“Ooh, high standards.”

“It’s not that,” Felix protests, as Changbin chuckles.

“I’m just messing with you, sorry,” the older boy smiles. “It’s not weird or anything for you, right? I can stop-…”

“No, it’s fine,” Felix shrugs. “It’s just, I’m more interested in boys, that’s all.”

He looks up, lightning quick, for Changbin’s reaction, and feels an incredible wave of relief to see the other boy smile. It’d been easier to talk about it in Australia, and Rachel had been relatively chill when he’d come out to her a few years ago (“Cool. Now tell me if this guy’s actually cute or if my taste is bad, thanks.”) but coming back to Korea, things were a little different.

“ _Nice_ , that makes the entire team _,_ then! Okay, well, Minho’s bisexual,” Changbin says, after a moment’s thought, and it’s possibly the happiest moment in Felix’s life. _Holy shit. Please be single. Please please be single._

“It’s gross, actually, all the PDA that goes on,” the older boy rolls his eyes. “The worst part is when they try to set you up out of pity. If Minho offers to make you a Tinder account, say no. Learn from my mistakes.”

Felix’s entire being is alight with euphoria, because _yes._ His luck might’ve been rough these past few years, but it sure was paying back now, in _spades_.

“Yeah,” is all he can say, for a moment, giddy with the shock of so many good things happening at once.

“We should do this more often, hang out,” Changbin continues, pouring himself more soup. “I’ll call ‘Sungie and the rest, too, before exams get hectic.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Felix can’t help the little shrug of disappointment then, _which is totally dumb_ , because _you only know him through these friends and now you want him to yourself_?  _Get a grip, Felix._

The conversation lulls, then, as a bus rolls past their window. Felix glances out, blinking as he comes face to face with a giant poster of none other than Xiyeon, posing cheerily with a V sign, pointing to something on her wrist, accompanied by a caption, in bold black.

_A daughter, a sister, a citizen. Are you one of us?_

Upon closer inspection, the thing around her wrist appears to be some sort of black ion band, Felix realises, as the bus rolls off.

“Huh,” Changbin says, sounding a little more cynical than Felix is used to. “Jisung hates that ad.”

“Why?” Felix is squinting, trying to remember the caption. “What was that…that bracelet around her wrist?”

“Ah,” the older boy seems reluctant to get onto the topic. “It’s…well, it’s called a Tracker," he shrugs wearily, like he's giving up trying to sugarcoat it. "It basically tracks your location, voice and visual recordings, at any one time, and sends the information to the government branch in charge of the Millennial Society Reintegration program,” Changbin sighs over his soup. “All Registered Millennials are required to wear one.”

“What?” Felix’s eyes widen. _Someone taking video and audio recordings of you wherever you go with a location stamp? That’s worse than a parole anklet. “_ Isn’t that like, a violation of privacy, or something?”

Changbin sighs again. “It used to be worse. Back in the day, all Registered Millennials were institutionalised – they were kept in dorms, separated from their family, and had to ask for permission whenever they wanted to go out. Their family and friends had visiting hours.”

He smiles wryly at the look of barely contained horror on Felix’s face. “The Tracker was a compromise. Public views were really complicated when it was first announced - the MSR uses the data to keep an eye on them, but also to prove their innocence when it’s necessary. A girl got accused of using her invisibility in a jewellery heist some years back based on some shitty quality CCTV evidence, and the data showed she was at home the whole time it happened. There are problems with the system, definitely,” Changbin reasons it out placatingly, and Felix wonders if this is something he’s had to do often. “But it’s all we’ve got right now.”

The younger boy hesitates, thinking back to their initial conversation (and its abrupt ending) that very first day, wondering if it’s safe enough to test the waters. “Jisung didn’t really sound happy to talk about the Millennials that day.”

The older boy inhales, as though bracing himself for something, then, and Felix considers backtracking, wondering if it’s too soon to ask about this. Jisung and Changbin seem awfully close, in a way that’s different from how Chan is with both of them, or how even Minho is with Jisung.

“Look, things are just - it’s different for him,” the older boy explains hesitantly. “You guys might be born in the same year, but living in Korea, things were difficult for him when he was a kid. Sure, he’s not a Millennial, but he grew up _watching_ his classmates Manifest in school, right in front of him, wondering if it might happen to him too.

“Kids your age had to live in fear till they were teenagers, because there was no way of knowing if the Surge had affected you too – people treated them like they were accidents waiting to happen, and still do even now, though we don’t have Manifestation cases anymore,” Changbin shrugs wearily. “People got hurt, rumours spread, parents abandoned their kids, and the whole time, the government was just trying to cover up. The MSR is the closest thing they’ve had to sanctuary so far, and it’s far from perfect as it is.”

Felix swallows down the lump in his throat – so he was right, the Millennial situation wasn’t as simple as Chan’d explained that day. “Chan seems to believe in it, though…?”

Changbin pauses, now, watching him cautiously. “Felix…I’m telling you this because you seem like a trustworthy guy, okay?” When Felix nods worriedly, he continues, quieter this time. “Chan’s little sister was involved in one of the bigger Millennial accidents, when Chan was 14, right after they moved back to Korea. She got hurt pretty bad, and she lost a leg.”

“ _What?”_

“The family came together to support her and she’s doing okay now,” Changbin continues hastily, at the devastated look on Felix’s face. “But…she loved doing sports, and I think Chan feels like that was taken away from her. He doesn’t hate the Millennials, definitely not, but he supports the MSR when it comes to helping them keep their Enhancements in check.”

“I…” Felix is speechless for a moment. “I never knew. That’s awful.”

“Accidents happen, and the wrong people pay for them, all the time,” Changbin mumbles. Clearly, the subject seems to depress him, too.

“What about you…?” The younger boy treads cautiously. “What do you think?”

Changbin seems to pull himself together, then, smiling. “Like I said, the MSR isn’t perfect, but there are people working to make it better. There are non-profit orgs out there dedicated to making Millennials’ lives easier, like lobbying for changes to be made, or just providing care packages to Millennials who need the support. They accept donations and volunteer work at their awareness campaigns – Jisung and I went for last year’s one. We could all go together this year, too, if you’re cool with that.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Felix brightens.

Changbin laughs then, and something in him seems to relax, watching Felix through the rims of his glasses.

In that moment, almost, it feels like Felix is falling forwards, into a mesmerising, glittering dark abyss, a world of meaning he can’t understand yet. “So that’s why Minho picked you,” the other boy mumbles, mostly to himself.

“What’s…that mean?” The younger boy flushes slightly.

“Oh, what? Nothing,” Changbin averts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just, you seem-…”

They’re interrupted by the sound of something vibrating, a persistent beeping ringing through the air, and Changbin sighs, pressing a finger into his temple, glancing apologetically at Felix as he takes out his phone to check the message.

Again, comes the wave of disappointment as he glances back down at the table, but also the curiosity prickling, like the mental image of sandpapered phone cameras at the back of his mind, and the ghost of strict disapproval in Chan’s eyes.

_Speaking of which…_

There’s something Felix notices about the phone Changbin had taken out. _It’s the one with the ruined cameras_.

Chan comes back, then, holding his phone too. Changbin looks up, and they seem to exchange glances.

“Hey, ‘Lix, really sorry, but is it okay if we rush off somewhere? Something happened at the – the studio,” Chan smiles, but he looks tired. “You know the way back?”

“Yeah, yeah no it’s fine, you guys are probably super busy,” Felix stands, rubbing his hands against the seams of his jeans.

“No, it’s not like that, sorry we’re running off like this,” Changbin says, gathering his own things into his bag. “Hope the food was good for you, at least?”

“Yeah, no really, don’t worry about it,” Felix reassures him, before turning to look at Chan. “So, uhm, what happened, hyung?”

“Boring technical stuff,” Chan laughs, gathering his bag. He’s still holding onto his phone, like he’s waiting for updates. It’s got a leather cover on, Felix observes, so he can’t see the front camera, and his hand’s covering the back camera. “I paid for the food already, so don’t worry about the bill. Text us when you’re back, okay? See you tomorrow at lunch!”

Changbin waves reluctantly, and just like that, they’re both out of the restaurant, Chan picking up a call as soon as the door closes behind them, crossing the road to the next street over.

Felix shrugs to himself, bowing and smiling to thank the ahjumma, before sighing and heading out the door, back towards the university.

The events of that evening replay in his head as he lies down to sleep that night, uneasy fear coiling at the pit of his stomach when he thinks about Jisung, what it might’ve been like if he’d been the one to grow up here in Korea, facing the prejudice and fear for twenty whole years, of being born so-called defective. Then he thinks about Chan, puts himself in the older boy’s shoes and thinks about what he might feel if Rachel or Olivia had been hurt that badly by a Millennial, even if it’d been an accident.

Then, in the maelstrom of thoughts already blowing like a sandstorm in his head, he thinks of the Millennials, of what it would be like to wake up one morning with that Mark splashed across your face or body, and shivers, drawing the blanket in closer to himself. The relief he feels at being safely past the age of Manifestation mingles with waves of guilt, knowing that he’s living on a happiness that the rest of them can’t have.

But the echoes of Changbin’s resolve to help with what little he can rise in the storm of his mind. like a solid rock in a raging sea. It’s this that eventually helps him drift off to sleep.

That night, Felix dreams of bright white lights and grey, ghostly whispers, lingering in his mind when he wakes up, like the gentle whistling of wind through a graveyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changbin voice]] yuhhh
> 
> ok i lied there was more exposition plot carbohydrate here but i swear next chapter is when the juicy high cholesterol parts start!! in the meantime, have more srs insights into 3racha's backstories, gloomy foreshadowing and cute felix eating naengmyeon
> 
> also pre-changlix
> 
> comments honestly really help me so much in writing so please let me know what you guys think/would like to see in future chapters!! \o/


	5. 004.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix gets caught in a fight he never wanted to be a part of, both literally and metaphorically. He's going to learn that this is only the first of many.

School passes in a blur.

In the blink of an eye, it’s been two months, and Felix is too busy struggling under the weight of mid-terms, presentations and dance practice to worry about much else.

Sprinkled in between their little group’s everyday lunch meetings and occasional midnight jaunts to find fast food have been movie outings (Jisung’s a big Marvel superheroes fan, Changbin is a DC fan, Felix and Co. watch their occasional heated arguments with popcorn and 3D glasses), pizza and cider nights at Changbin and Jisung’s room (surprisingly, Minho’s a lightweight who has a penchant for dangerous choreography when tipsy) and the occasional party night out with the dance crew.

Felix had honestly never been a big fan of clubbing, even the idea of it, back in Australia (he and Rachel had come to the agreement that LotR marathons were a more fulfilling and more importantly, less expensive, experience), but it’s impossible to say no when Minho practically begs, flashing exclusive guestlist invites to high-end clubs thanks to his dance connections. It’s nice just going and seeing the rest of the dance crew, surprisingly a bunch of super nice people, let loose and have fun.

“You should invite the group one day, hyung, it’d be fun!” Felix shouts over the music. The alcohol is making his face feel warm, and the lights are distorting Minho’s face, making him wonder if he actually sees the strange look on Minho’s face, like a cross between a wave of strong emotion and the slightest hint of dry resignation.

“Jisung and the rest are always busy, school stuff,” he says with a shrug. “Why? The dance kids not fun enough for you? I’m letting Ryeongie know that during practice next week.”

Chaeryeong isn’t there that night – Felix had learnt a month before that her parents were high-flyers living in Gangnam, and her father had been pretty strict when it came to bringing her and her little sister up. She respected her parents, of course, but she’d complain to Felix about the restrictions she had to deal with every so often.

“Hyung~” Felix whines. He wonders, for a brief moment, what Changbin might be like when drunk – would he be the loud type? The sleepy type? Either way, it’d be cute, he thinks satisfactorily. “Everyone’s busy, aren’t they? What’s the difference?”

The beat drops, and Minho laughs, the question swept away on the tide of people and the music pouring from the speakers, and Felix doesn’t get the chance to ask again.

This month, though, Felix dedicates his entire focus to mid-terms. He’s grateful when he manages to bag an A- for his first quiz, and can’t stop grinning to himself on the way back to school, texting Chaeryeong about their homework. He’d had to nip out of campus quickly to buy some supplies and had lost track of time, only realising he’d be late for lecture as he was paying for his things.

A text notification comes in while he’s in the middle of a KakaoTalk sticker war with the younger girl, just showing the preview on the top.

 ** _changbeanie_** _[1:34pm]_  
_omg an A?? im hanging out with a genius_  
_remember me when u get famous_  
_can I get an autograph??_

Felix’s heart rate picks up, not necessarily from the brisk pace he’s setting back towards the school. After that night at the _naengmyeon_ restaurant, they’d been out several more times, but always with someone else, either Jisung or Minho or Chan. They’re both busy people – Felix’s got his crew and his studies, and Changbin’s got a ton of commitments even outside of academics and music, but they never fail to text every day, and the thought of it’s enough to bring a smile to Felix’s face.

He ducks his head, then, hiding a tingling flush, focusing on his conversation with Chaeryeong – he’ll reply to Changbin when he’s not in a hurry. 

 ** _ryeongbong_** _[1:34pm]_  
_so u stalked my TY twitter fanacc_ _but cant_ _even repay me with a follow??_  
_weak_

 **_You_ ** _[1:35pm]  
call me that to my FACE when the world knos abt ur TY hands fetish_

 **_ryeongbong_ ** _[1:35pm]  
oh I guess im just supposed 2 ignore ur album of SP13 crotch crop shots_

Felix almost trips on the sidewalk, drawing the concern of several passers-by.

 ** _You_** _[1:36pm]_  
_now lets all agree_  
_2 nvr speak of this again_  
_anyways_  
_save a seat for me im coming I swear_

 ** _ryeongbong_** _[1:35pm]_  
_no_  
_btw would it hurt to like_  
_come on time one day oppa_

Felix gives a half-hearted scowl, hurrying up the long stretch of shophouses leading up to the university’s entrance. He kind of regrets telling Chaeryeong to be casual with him when they’d first met – of course, being the oldest in her family, she’s probably used to talking down.

 **_You_ ** _[1:36pm]  
all this for a shitty followback ??_

 **_ryeongbong_ ** _[1:36pm]  
kkkkkkk_

Then the explosions begin.

The first one is quiet, rumbling through the street, making the glass tremble. Felix pauses, looking around, eyes wide.

_What was that?_

The streets are mostly empty, with it being the middle of a weekday. A few shops down, a couple of retail assistants poke their heads out from the glass door, looking confused.

“Did-…did you hear that?” one of them asks hesitantly.

In the silence, now that he’s paying attention, Felix thinks he can hear shouts, the sound of a fight going on that he can’t exactly trace.

Then a _boom_ sounds through the building, shaking the floor and cracking the glass panes of the window displays, eliciting a scream from one of the girls. The few people around are coming out into the street now, squinting in the afternoon sunlight, looking around warily.

“It came from there,” a boy in a café apron is pointing to the building right next to Felix, starting to back away. “What do you think it is?”

Felix stumbles along, following him towards the opposite street, feeling fear grip him. _Just what is going on?_

His question is answered, just then, with a deafening _crash._

A blur of monochrome shoots out through the open window like lightning, slamming into the asphalt in a burst of fiery blue, making screams ring out in the stiff, cold air.

Felix gapes as the figure – the _Defender_ , rises to his feet, uniform singed and smoking gently. The bold white letters across his back read JH97 – _he’s from NCT’s Unit_.

Something – or some _one_ – just managed to blast a Defender out of a window onto the street. A _Defender._

He kicks off shakily into the air, gesturing with the arm that isn’t bent at an odd angle, voice commanding. “Rogue Millennials! Get away from the building!”

Felix’s heart sinks. _Millennials? But what were they doing? Chan didn’t say anything about them going rogue…_

No room is left for argument, however, when another explosion rocks through the first building, shattering every window on the second floor. The sparse crowd screams as broken glass rains down, and a fire alarm starts to ring. They sprint, hands over their heads, for different buildings, and Felix is swept up in the panic, running with the rest of them, heart pounding in his ears.

He clusters with a handful of others in the lift lobby of an old apartment opposite, wincing as another explosion rings out. There are shouts coming in from everywhere, people running outside, and strangely, a _cracking_ sound, like a whip in the air.

There’s a gasp, then, as out of nowhere, fire roars and blooms like a massive, all-consuming flower at the foot of the steps leading up to the apartment building, and, by accident or otherwise, catches on the old newspapers left at the doorstep, before beginning to climb the rotting wood lining the stairs hungrily.

“Up, up!” Someone starts to shout. The shouts from outside are growing louder, and so are the explosions, like the fight is spilling out onto the street, but Felix doesn’t dare to stay to look.

“ _…people trapped up there_ -…” A girl is shouting.

The air is stuffy and still on the second floor once they thunder up through the heavy double doors, and the place is empty – just a recess area between floors.

Thick, choking smoke is starting to pour upwards from the fire into the cramped space, through the cracks in the doors, and one of the girls starts coughing.

“Should we keep going up?” Someone asks anxiously.

“We can’t go back out into the stairwell, what if the fire’s already there?”

“Does anyone have a wet cloth? My friend has asthma, I think she’s having an attack,” one of the retail girls from just now is starting to panic, holding her apron to her friend’s face, who’s starting to cough harder.

Another explosion rocks the building, making the floor tremor, and the six of them, now that Felix can see, fall silent.

Dust falls from the ceiling, coating their hair and face, and the asthmatic girl winces, covering her eyes as she looks up, breathing uneven.

The next two seconds happens in a flash. There’s a _crack_ , a blur of black smoke, and a scream from her friend, and she vanishes.

“Holy fuck,” one of the guys whispers. They’re all looking wildly around them, now, involuntarily huddling closer together.  

There’s another _crack_ and more black smoke, in place of where the previous girl had vanished, eliciting more chaos from the group, and this time, it dissipates just enough for Felix to catch sight of a girl, hair slicked back into a sharp ponytail, black half mask over her nose and mouth, so all he can see of her face is her eyes, beautifully tapered like a cat’s, burning and dark.

She grabs two this time, vanishing together with them, their screams ringing in Felix’s ears.

There’s only three of them left, and they find themselves back to back.

“She’s a Millennial,” the guy mumbles, sounding terrified, as Felix and the girl turn to stare at him. “I saw her Mark.”

The last _crack_ comes like a death sentence, and the boy yells out when the girl, the _Millennial,_ reaches out and grabs him.

“No!” Felix pushes when she tries to snatch the girl, too, and the Millennial turns to look at him for a split second, eyes flashing with an odd combination of annoyance and mirth.

He _sees_ it then, the splash of white on her right shoulder, almost deliberately exposed. It’s shaped like a watercolour butterfly, or a crown, curled around her shoulder like a bracelet.

She elbows him away, surprisingly strong, grabs the girl and vanishes. 

Felix is alone.

Another explosion rocks the building, sounding deafeningly close this time, and Felix winces, hands over his head, backing away from the door to crouch near the lift.

_Well, if you die here, at least you won’t have to sit for finals._

Never has a thought been backtracked so fast in Felix’s life, as the double doors to the stairs swing open, and a wave of blistering heat _rolls_ into the stifling lobby, filling up the tiny space and all the air in Felix’s lungs. _I’d rather sit for the finals._

A boy steps through, just enough time for Felix to catch a glance at the stairway behind him, now charred and smouldering. _What the hell, how’d he get through the fire?_ Felix doesn’t look for long, though, because his eyes are drawn almost immediately to the boy’s face.

He looks older than the girl, even though Felix knows they’re the same age, eyes dark and hollow. His skin is pale, marred by ash, like polluted snow against his dark hair, pulled back under a cap, and like the girl, he’s wearing a black half mask. His dark eyes lock immediately onto Felix, scowling.

All this fades in comparison, however, when Felix’s eyes land on his Mark. It’s white, shaped like slash wounds, curved around his throat, and it rings a bell in Felix’s head that he can’t quite put his finger on. His hands make a swift flicking movement, and fire sparks to life in his palms.

Felix almost cries out in relief at the _crack_ and puff of dark smoke that follows. He’d rather die at her hands rather than his.

“Why’s this one still here?” The boy asks, as the girl steps out of the smoke. He sounds annoyed.

“Don’t act like the fire wasn’t your fucking fault, Choi Raesung,” the girl snaps, the irritation in her tone only barely muffled by the mask, as she steps over to grab Felix.

 _I take it back, I’d rather not die at all_.

“No!” Felix pulls his arm away, feeling panic spike as he ducks out of the way, still pressed against the wall. “Stop!”

“My fault?” The boy, _Raesung_ , shoots back, voice like thunder, barely even noticing Felix. “You’re saying this was me when Jeno lobbed a fucking explosive into a Defender’s face for _fun_?”

“ _Stop_ ,” Felix cries out when she grabs his wrist, her grip like steel, burning into his skin. Panic thrums through his veins as the pain spikes – all he wants is for her to _stop, no more_. “ _Please stop!”_

Then everything explodes.

For a moment, all Felix can see is white. Everything is _hurting_ , like every nerve ending is on fire, every muscle strained and pulled to its maximum, sound and light bursting out behind his eyes and rendering him completely immobilised and blinded.

If he’s screaming, he can’t tell, because there’s a roaring in his ears that sounds like static and thunder at the same time, crashing and screeching, and everything _hurts,_ it hurts so bad.

Then it stops.

Felix is face down on the ground, gathering himself slowly, a mess of voices swimming into his consciousness, skin still hypersensitive.

“…hell is wrong with him? Get him out of here!”

“What the _fuck_ ,” the girl’s voice hisses in Felix’s ear, and he’s just vaguely aware that she’s tugging on his arm, like something’s supposed to happen. His head feels so _heavy,_ like he just wants to collapse and sleep. “I can’t-…I can’t teleport him out!”

Footsteps approach, storming on the ground, like a death sentence.

It’s only then that Felix forces himself to look up, then, into the faces of the two kids, his vision swimming, eyes fluttering open and shut.

And the girl lets go of him like she’d been electrified, stumbling back, staring straight at his face.

Then she points, scrambling to get up, grabbing the boy’s wrist.

“Oppa!” her panicked voice cuts clean through the mush of Felix’s brain. “He’s a Millennial! _The kid’s a Millennial!”_

_What…?_

The wall opposite is smashed down, just adding to the confusion, then, and Felix winces as daylight pours in. His head is still pounding, and he doesn’t think he can get up.

_What did she mean? Who’s a Millennial?_

He gasps when the girl screams, then, as a gold spear soars through the hole, impaling her straight through the leg.

“Yeji!” Raesung shouts. His eyes are darting around, watching for danger. “Fuck, _Jin! Jin get here now!”_

Something – some _one_ , lands on the broken concrete and plaster of where the wall had once been with a breathtaking _crash_ , then, shaking the entire room. The figure straightens up and steps down.

Felix struggles to keep his eyes open, feeling his breath stutter even then as he takes in how the sunlight haloes the figure’s darkened visor, casting them almost in a silhouette, till the nametag on their right breast reading _CB97_ is barely visible.

His heart leaps. _The Defenders. The Defenders are here._

Another Defender shoots into the room, then, kicking up a cloud of dust when he lands cleanly, gold spear materialising in his hand, the _JS01_ on his back all the more evident up close. He looks nothing like the perky, cheery figure he’d been on the Coronation day, movements honed to deadly precision, now.

“Not yet,” Raesung says out of the corner of his mouth when Yeji twitches slightly, barely audible even to Felix, as _J-1_ rises to his feet. “They need more time to get out.”

All attention is drawn to the first Defender, then, taking two very unassuming steps forward, shattered glass crunching under his military standard black combat boots.

“My name is _CB,_ I am a Defender,” he states, calm and cold. “You’re under arrest.”

There’s a silence, then, broken only by the wind whistling hollowly through the broken walls.

“Wow,” Raesung comments out loud, then, fire sparking in his hands. “You’re shorter than you look on TV.”

The floor at the Defender’s feet bursts into a fiery, roaring flame, then, but the man is quicker, corkscrewing into the air, then straight at a corner. A chain, burning cold and black, shoots out through the searing air, narrowly missed by the Millennial.

 _J-1_ moves in, faster than lightning, gold spear at the ready, and it lands with a silent but deadly precision at the spot where Yeji had been a millisecond before.

If the Defenders’ movements are like ice, perfect, formally trained grace, those of the Millennials are like fire, jerky and raw, survival instincts sharpened on the jaws of death.

Raesung’s body, despite seemingly being made of one hardened, wiry scar over another, flows like water - he moves quickly despite the suffocatingly small environment, twisting and turning to avoid the damage. There’s an emptiness, set deep in his eyes, like kerosene, making the fire roar harder with every hit he takes.

Yeji is fast – the glowing spear in her leg slows her down, but she appears and vanishes like it’s nothing all the same. _It’s a distraction_ , clearly, meant to draw attention away from the other threat in the room, the vermillion fury of his fists growing with every passing second.

Felix winces, curling into a tight ball as Raesung spins the flames into a vortex, creating a roll of heat and wind that rips through the room, knocking _CB97_ backwards momentarily when his attention’s on the teleporter. A spike of fear runs down Felix’s spine, which only intensifies as a bolt of gold shoots straight through the air during the reprieve, then, finding a clean bullseye in the pyrokinetic’s arm, making him shout out in pain and frustration.

That’s all the time it takes for one of _CB97_ ’s chains to find him, wrapping around his arm and tugging hard enough to slam him against the crumbling concrete walls.

“Oppa!” Yeji shouts, and the spear in her leg bursts into light, making her stumble down. _The spear must be some sort of paralyser._

Felix struggles up, trying to push himself into a sitting position so he can at least try to crawl away from the fight, and no one pays him any attention, thankfully. The Defenders are moving so fast, faster than lightning, corralling the two Millennials into a corner, bruised and beaten.

_Let it be over. Please, let it be over._

“Put your hands over your head, facing the wall,” the leader is speaking, still in that flat, calm tone. “Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

None of the Millennials do anything. Instead, they straighten a little, breathing hard, glancing behind them. Felix just barely sees Yeji nudge Raesung towards the wall, a hint of worry in her dark eyes.

That’s when the heavy double doors leading down the stairs are blown clean off their hinges, shooting across the room to dent the lift door opposite.

Despite the burning, dry heat from the fire and explosions, then, the temperature of the room seems to plummet. Everything grows darker, colder, and Felix feels goosebumps rise on his skin. Even the other Defender, _J-1_ , takes a hesitant step back, behind his leader.

A boy steps through the door, in the same half mask as the other two, shrouded in a glossy sphere of ghostly grey.

Felix feels terror racing down his spine, even after the events of just now, because those were near death experiences – _this_ , however, this feels like death staring you straight in the face.

The sphere around the boy pulsates gently in the empty air, and Felix swears he sees faces materialise and disappear, hears the whispers of screams that aren’t around any longer. The boy’s fist is the same ghostly texture as the shield, Felix realises, long, elegant fingers extending and contracting back in a rhythm. He has the same sharp eyes as Yeji, except where hers are burning with anger, his are empty.

Then the boy glances over, directly at Felix, and he feels like throwing up.

He glides over to the other Millennials, in a steady, silent prowl, now looking at the Defenders, like he’s daring them to make a move. His hand solidifies, just long enough to take Yeji’s arm on her injured side, lifting it over his shoulder. She grabs the other boy, then, and shoots one last look at Felix, before the three of them vanish in a puff of black smoke.

Felix lets out a ragged breath, feeling his head swirl as the temperature returns to normal. All this is too much – the skin of his face is burning, and he feels thoroughly exhausted.

He barely hears the last set of footsteps hit the ground from the air outside, barely listens to the hushed argument that’s taking place around him, words like _Millennial_ and _Mark_ being thrown around. All he feels is the set of arms lifting him up into a sitting position, so his head lolls over comfortably on someone’s shoulder.

“My name is _SP13_ , I’m a Defender,” the voice sounds faraway, but rock solid, and if Felix is to be honest, that’s all he needs right now. “Can you hear me? Felix, stay with me, okay?”

 _Stay with me_ , the words echo like a fever dream in Felix’s head. _Stay with me please._

Then everything fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR my chickadees, can yall believe shit finally happened!
> 
> so yeah felix manifested (yall knew this was gonna happen dont lie) and we met another skz member even though he wasn't named (who do u think it is!! im super interested to know) (there are only *twice voice* two choices tho) (or arE THERE) and we got some 2racha badassery + a 2s appearance of my favourite jyp/yg trainees so yeah!! (anyone watching ygtb who remembers choi raesung, yall are entitled to a veteran's discount, hmu and we can cry tgt)
> 
> sorry this took longer than the previous updates, i did some major restructuring for the chapters i'd alr written (like this one) because i felt like the plot wasn't right :( also for those of yall who are multifandom, yay, hope u likey!! for those who are reading this and are like who the fuck are these nonskz people, do i need to care about them, the answer is that the main focus will be on skz, have no fear!! i am very excited to write ma boi woojin and the obligatory gay hah!! 
> 
> thank you for reading <3 comments will be framed and hung up on my wall in reverence


	6. 005.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix's fate hangs in a delicate balance, with more weights on either side of the scales than probably advisable.

Changbin sets his helmet down roughly into his locker, the metallic sound it makes ringing out through the stony silence of the room, before brusquely running a gloved hand through his hair.

The Defenders’ Seoul Base armoury is a comfortable, practical space – it’s spacious and clean, with a workbench and fully stocked repairs cabinet that Changbin spends more time with than he’d like to admit. Now, though, none of them are probably in the mood to appreciate any of that that.

As usual, Chan’s the first one to break the silence, voice quiet.

“He needs to be Registered.”

Jisung drops his helmet on the workbench. It hits the polished wood with a solid, sharp _thunk_. “And have him bagged and tagged just like the other Millennials, hyung?”

“Sungie,” the leader’s voice is slow and reprimanding. There’s no resentment in his voice, no impatience, and Changbin honestly wonders how he does it. “He’s going to have to do it sooner or later.”

“Yeah?” Jisung sits down on the long, padded bench in the centre of the room, eyes determinedly averted. “And why exactly does he _have to_? We _know_ Felix, we know what he’s like. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Neither do a bunch of other Millennials, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need to be Registered,” Chan walks over, voice firm. “The MSR is going to _help him_ , Jisung.”

Changbin makes a noise through his nose, taking the rag down from the rack above and starting to polish his helmet forcefully. Having something to do is calming him down, at least, from the storm raging inside his head and his heart.

“By what? Forcing a Tracker on him? Making him feel like a criminal?” Jisung runs a hand through his hair in frustration, tossing his gloves onto the bench beside him. “He didn’t choose to have the Enhancements forced into his DNA before he was even _born_ , hyung. He doesn’t deserve to have that happen to him.”

Chan doesn’t speak for a moment, and the silence heightens the apprehension at the pit of Changbin’s stomach.

He turns, by just a fraction, just enough to check on the older man, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Jisung do the same. Chan’s staring into some indiscriminate spot in the wall, jaw locked and arms crossed, the restless shifting of his weight making the knife sheathed at his waist (one he’s only ever used for working into tight gaps or cutting through bindings, never to inflict wounds) let out a muffled clink.

They know he’s okay, that he’d gotten over it years ago and against all odds, held his judgement and turned that scar into a lesson.

But while Changbin’s been on the fence for this for ages, he’d made his stance clear on the way back. And neither of them wanted Chan to feel like they were ganging up against him.

Not for something like this.

Eventually, Chan sighs, taking a step towards Jisung. “C’mon, let’s talk about this. Binnie, you too.”

The younger boy drops the helmet, plodding reluctantly towards the other two, taking a seat on the bench next to Jisung, while Chan sits opposite them, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I know,” he says quietly, after a while. “We think differently on this. But we’re going to have to make a decision, because once I write today’s report, that’s the story we have to stick by,” he looks levelly at Jisung. “You think Felix shouldn’t be Registered?”

“He’s just a kid, hyung,” the youngest boy says, in a small voice. He doesn’t need to say it, but Changbin knows he’s not just talking about Felix anymore. “You saw how scared he was just now. Being forced to get Registered now will just make things worse for him.”

“Okay,” Chan says reassuringly. “Changbin?”

For a moment, Changbin hesitates. His emotions are mixed, chaotic, and while the thought of the Tracker shackled around Felix’s wrist makes him anxious, the thought of him as an Unregistered Millennial makes it worse. _The rogue Millennials know about Felix. What if they come for him too? We won’t be able to protect him like we can if he’s Registered._

“I think,” he says quietly, not looking at either of them. “The decision isn’t ours to make,” he crosses his arms, retreating into himself a little. “Whether or not Felix gets Registered should be up to him, not us.”

Chan nods, and for a moment, Changbin’s focus is drawn to how exhausted he looks – debuting’s drained all of them, but like with everything else, it’s hit SKZ’s leader the hardest.

“Well,” he says wearily, before looking at both of them with a bracing smile. “The one thing we can probably agree on is that Felix is our friend, and we want him to be happy and safe, through whatever means, right?” He glances down, back hunched over. “I won’t write it into the report. But like Changbin says, if he decides to Register, then we’ll offer him all the support he might need.”

Jisung’s the first to react, leaping forward and throwing his arms around Chan in the way that only he can. “Thanks hyung,” he mumbles, face buried in the rough camouflage fabric, before withdrawing, looking at the older man worriedly. “It won’t be like before. His Enhancement can’t hurt anyone, and he’ll know how to handle himself.”

“And we’ll be there if he doesn’t,” Chan says with a thin smile. “He’s in good hands,” he says, this statement directed more to Changbin – of course he’d sense the extra weight on the younger man’s shoulders. “So stop worrying so much. He’s stronger than you give him credit for.”

Changbin quirks a smile, feeling a rush of relief that they could resolve it this way. “ _Good hands_ , yeah, you’d say that, wouldn’t you, hyung.”

Chan makes as though to push him off the bench jokingly, then, as Jisung bursts into laughter, Changbin evading swiftly, like they’re recruits again, bouncing off the walls of the training room, Jisung and Changbin fooling around in mid-air when they get bored of repeating their sets until Chan manages to chase them down.

“Really, though, Changbin-hyung,” the maknae pipes up, after Chan’s done trying to kick Changbin onto the floor. “Sounds a lot more like you’re just _jealous_ Felix is spending all his time with W-…”

Changbin sees Chan’s hand reach out like lightning, squeezing Jisung’s arm with a warning.

And then the door bangs open, footsteps hitting the floor like a metal hammer.

“Okay,” a voice cuts forcefully through the cold, recycled air. “So does anyone feel like talking about whatever the fuck happened there, or do I have to start?”

Changbin rolls his eyes, feeling the mood plummet, then. Forcing back a sigh of frustration, he stands to walk over to the workbench, just as Jisung shrinks involuntarily behind Chan.

Lee Taeyong, better known as _TY88_ , is, by all means, an excellent Defender.

He remains the only Defender in history to ever top the recruit melee, ranged, and overall evaluations for three months straight. He has a sparkling 98.7% assignment success rate. He’s solely responsible for a whopping 15% of the capital inflow, thanks to his ever-growing pool of dedicated (and crazy rich) fans.

All this apparently gives him license to be the biggest fucking asshole to the only Unit newer than NCT, which, _lucky me_ , happens to be SKZ.

Chan is the first in the line of fire, as always.

“Sunbaenim, we weren’t prepared for the Millennials that showed up,” the leader says placatingly. Changbin swears in his head as two other boys, one wearing a barely-hidden grin, enter the armoury, coming to lean against the table behind Taeyong. _Why does the whole NCT have to be here to watch us get trashed?_ “We thought it was a terrorist attack from the explosions, at first.”

“So, what, the teleporter wasn’t a dead giveaway that the Millennials were involved?” Taeyong retorts. There’s a manila file in his hand, spine bent from how tightly he’s gripping it. “The fuck was she doing, anyway?”

“We thought they might be gathering hostages, first, but it seemed like they were evacuating the people from the danger zone,” Jisung says, voice faltering as Taeyong turns to look at him, like he’d just noticed he was sitting there. “She wasn’t hurting anyone, sunbaenim.”

“Yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you, Han Jisung?” he folds his arms across his chest. Jisung’s face falls slightly, then, and Changbin almost speaks out of turn, _almost_ , but reins himself in with a deep breath as Taeyong turns back to Chan.

“He’s right,” even Chan sounds a little more on edge, now. Jisung got enough heat from the other recruits for his age before they debuted, and to hear it from Taeyong even now was more than just a little unfair. “They didn’t go in with the intention of hurting anyone, it’s almost like they were causing a diversion for something else.”

“Yeah,” the oldest man in the room almost spits it out, before throwing the file in his hand onto the centre table, so documents and pictures spill out, before running a hand through his hair. “ _Congratulations_ , Sherlock. While the explosions freak was going to town on public property, a whole bunch of institutionalised Millennials managed to cut their Trackers together and escaped.”

Changbin feels a twist of fear, then guilt, at the news of Institutionalised Millennials on the loose – most of the kids still stuck there were being detained for some crime or another. He glances at Jisung, seeing the other boy pale.

“How many?” Chan’s voice is tense. “Do we know their profiles? Our Unit only saw four today – the pyrokinetic, the teleporter, the explosives one and another boy.”

“We suspect they’ve got an Unregistered Millennial on their side, a technopath, because all their data was wiped from the system when we tried to access it. This is all we managed to get,” Taeyong turns to the boy on his left, then, with the calm face and worried eyes, speaking shortly. “Bring up their profiles.”

Wordlessly, Jaehyun takes out one of their standard-issue holographic cubes, flicking his wrist so a 3D projection comes up. It’s a little sad, Changbin isn’t going to lie, to see the only NCT member with any ounce of decency get walked over by the other two all the time – Jaehyun and Chan actually used to be pretty close before NCT debuted.

The projection flickers, then, to show two boys in the standard-issue Institution uniforms, tall and lanky, with sallow faces.

“There are different sectors in the Institution – these two are from the same one, Sector 1. The kid on the left’s the one who caused the explosions today,” NCT’s leader relays darkly. “He’s called Jeno. The other one goes by Haechan, he’s got flight. Both were detained for causing trouble as kids, and after a few years their families eventually stopped caring too. They’ve stuck together ever since.”

The screen changes again, to another two boys and a silhouette. One’s a familiar, slightly terrifying sight – surly, dark-eyed and staring the camera down, white slash marks around his neck.

“These two were from Sector 2, they were called the Silver Boys by the wardens back in the Institution - everyone who’s ever paid attention to the news knows Choi Raesung, pyrokinetic freak, by now,” Taeyong cracks his neck in annoyance. “He’s got a lot of influence over the other Millennials, we’re pretty sure he was the one who pressured the rest into cutting their Trackers and escaping with him. He and Jeno caused a _shitton_ of trouble when they were kids.”

“Most of which were accidents,” Jisung says, voice bordering on defensive.

It’s then the boy on Taeyong’s other side, Mark, leans over to whisper something to Jaehyun. He’s another one of the Defenders’ bright bulbs, with a sparkling track record and an immense fanbase, who sees it perfectly fit to talk down to Chan and Changbin despite being younger. His wide eyes dart in Chan’s direction, barely hiding a grin behind his hand.

Changbin has to force himself not to react at that moment - _the little fucker barely knows us and he’s gossiping about Chan’s sister?_ And it’s not like Jaehyun didn’t suffer his fair share of losses from the accidents, either – what the hell was wrong with that kid, honestly?

“The only reason why Raesung’s still alive is ‘cause of Kim Junkyu – he’s a healer,” if Taeyong had heard Jisung (or Mark), he pretends not to notice. “We’re thinking they could be accompanied by the Unregistered technopath, but if there are more, we’re not sure.”

“What about the girl, and the boy with the shield today?” Chan says, ignoring Mark’s provocation with an admirable professionalism. “Were they ever Registered?”

The air goes quiet for a while.

Changbin remembers the boy, remembers the frigid death in his eyes, the way everything seemed to go cold around him, and shivers involuntarily. The other Millennials were like kids, other than Raesung, maybe, but _him_...he didn’t even seem human.

NCT’s leader doesn’t speak for a moment, a muscle in his jaw moving silently. “You guys faced both the escaped Millennials from Sector 3 today. The girl’s a teleporter, but the boy - his is an Enhancement they stopped production of before it even reached beta stages because it got axed. The working project title was Children of the Grave,” he pauses. “He steals souls.”

There’s a stunned silence for a moment. Changbin’s the first one to speak up. “What, like, sucks it out of people?”

“When you saw him, his fist got all grey and translucent, right?” Taeyong turns to look at him, gaze piercing. “He reaches in and rips it right from your body.”

“What happens to the victim?”

“They go into a coma. When their data got wiped, everything we knew about his previous victims got wiped too, so we’re at a dead end for that,” the older man taps the projection, highlighting the boy’s image. “He can project the energy out from his body temporarily, too, to make a shield.”

Changbin stares, just thinking about the prospect of it for a moment. _That’s worse than death_. Friends and family, passing the time waiting in dreary grey hospital rooms, living with the tiniest sliver of hope that their loved ones might come back one day.

“The wardens used to call their sector the Dynasty," Taeyong continues, with a slight grimace. "The girl and boy pretty much own the place as far as the Millennials are concerned, and they’re related by blood.”

“Twins?” Chan frowns.

“We thought so too, but turns out they’re cousins, both abandoned at the Institution when they were kids. The teleporter is Hwang Yeji, the only female rogue Millennial we know of so far.”

“And the boy…?” Changbin prompts.

*

There’s a screenshot of a smiling, freckled boy, expanded on a screen, illuminating the dimness.

Hwang Hyunjin sits in the still, frigid air, resting his chin on an open palm. He’s staring at the image, dark eyes cold and sharp, like the pale white crown-shaped mark wrapped around his right shoulder. Minutes pass, stretching into metaphorical hours, and he remains unmoving, observing quietly, curiously.

“Your eyes are going to go bad like this, you know that?”

Hyunjin’s expression barely changes as the boy slips in, settling comfortably down beside him, leaning onto his shoulder. 

“How’s Yeji?” he chooses to ask instead.

“The paralysis from those dumb spears is still wearing off, but she’ll be fine,” the boy relays, yawning. “What about you?”

 A comfortable silence spreads in the cool air, filled only by the unsaid words hanging with question marks around the frozen picture of the boy on the screen.

“The Millennial from today,” Hyunjin says slowly, deep in thought, after a moment. “He stopped Yeji’s Enhancements from working when she touched him.”

The boy looks up, beautiful brown eyes watching him cautiously. “You think he might...?”

The tips of Hyunjin’s fingers are fading in and out, like smoke, and he curls them absent-mindedly into a fist.

“Hyun-...”

“Would you?” Hyunjin asks, the slightest tremor in his voice betraying his true emotions, turning to look at the younger boy. “For me, Minnie?”

He doesn’t say what, but he doesn’t need to.

Kim Seungmin sighs, then, soft hair fluttering slightly, one hand drifting like a tendril of smoke around the back of Hyunjin’s neck, voice tender with devotion. “Of course I would.”

Hyunjin’s dark eyes are unreadable to the untrained eye for a moment. Then slowly, with all the deliberation in the world, he leans over, placing a kiss on the other boy’s lips.

The door creaks open, then, flooding the room with light, but they barely flinch.

“Hey lovebirds,” Yeji says unceremoniously, leaning on the doorway. Her leg must still be numb. “Sorry to interrupt your whatever, but just thought you’d like to know,” she relays, not without a hint of bitterness. “Raesung’s out, for now at least. They’re leaving tonight.”

“They?” Hyunjin asks, expression unchanging as he turns to look at her.

“He’s taking Kim Junkyu and Park Jihoon with him, of course,” Yeji shrugs. “Junkyu’s been glued to him since he got assigned to Sector 2, and Jihoon says, quotation marks, he doesn’t like you or Jeno enough to have a choice, no offence. As far as the MSR knows, he’s still Registered and has nothing to do with us, anyway.”

“I don’t blame Raesung,” Seungmin says quietly, voice like a melody. “Junkyu almost died out there today.”

“Yeah,” the girl sighs. “He said we could contact him if we needed help,” she lifts something half-heartedly – it’s a burner phone. “He and Jeno aren’t exactly buddies right now, though, so if we need a technopath or a healer, we’re probably going to have to look elsewhere unless we’re desperate.”

“What about Haechan and Jeno?”

“Haechan says sorry for the mess,” Yeji smiles wryly. “Jeno hasn’t been himself since…since, you know. He says he understands if we want to go solo for now. So, what’s the plan?”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a moment, instead staring, thinking, fist opening and closing restlessly.

It’s then Yeji takes out her phone, a tad reluctantly. “There’s also something Jihoon thinks you ought to know.” 

“About the Defenders?”

She disappears, appearing a split second later at their table in a wisp of smoke that they’re both used to enough to ignore, before placing her phone on the rough surface of the table.

The screen lights up, showing a screenshot of a locked Instagram account (child’s play for Jihoon, who can make ATMs spit money at him just by touching the keypad). There’s a squirrel-cheeked boy holding up the phone for a selfie in the most recent picture, posing next to an older, blond-dyed boy. 

And slightly behind him, looking into the camera with a shy, blinding smile, is a familiar freckled boy.

“About the Millennial,” Yeji finishes, crossing her arms. “Jihoon did some digging – his name is Felix Lee, just moved over from Australia, doing a Bio degree at Yonsei now and living on campus.”

“Yonsei?” Seungmin tilts his head. “That’s where Yeonnie’s little sister is studying. It’s not that far from here, is it?”

Yeji nods, but her eyes are fixed, with expertly hidden concern, on the boy beside him.  “Exactly.”

Hyunjin tilts his head wordlessly, cracking his neck, before leaning over. “Well,” he lets a finger hover over the screen, before sliding it down the side, almost reverently. 

“That’ll just make things easier for us, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone had a bunch of lovely new year's parties aka lots of food
> 
> again, was fixing lots of stuff in this chapter so it took a lil bit longer, the next one should be out a lot sooner though because im excited to write cute boys!!
> 
> also i couldnt resist dividing the rogue millennials into 2000liners from each of the big 3 (yg park jihoon has my heart!!) im aware this fic should’ve come out later so ppl at least know who the yg treasure box boys and jypngg yeji are sobs
> 
> "angel, why are all the assholes in your longfics automatically sm artists" slams table they'RE NOT.... i just secretly like this concept of taeyong and enjoyed writing him and mark here immensely oh dear! \o/ 
> 
> most importantly!! thank you SO MUCH for your comments on the previous fic, i enjoyed reading them (also laughing until i teared up HAHA you guys are so beautiful) and yall are creepily spot on with your hyunjin and [hwang yeji ](https://twitter.com/yejigallery/status/1079201941408890880) predictions so imma hide the clues better from here on out yes :)
> 
> hope you guys like this chapter! again, comments will be treasured and given a bonsang <3


	7. 006.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix realises hard truths aren't so bad with a soft landing.

Felix blinks awake to a whirling white ceiling fan.

He groans slightly, raising a hand to rub his eyes. His skin feels tingly, like he’s just woken up from a long sleep, but nothing aches, surprisingly.

“How are you feeling, Felix?”

Felix jumps, inhaling sharply, scrambling up into a sitting position and wobbling when the blood rushes to his head. There’s a man walking up to his bed, carrying a band of cloth, wearing a kind smile and some sort of cream white, grey and pale blue uniform. There’s a caduceus in the logo on his uniform - he must be a medic of some sort.

“Where am I?” Felix involuntarily tugs his blanket closer, eyes darting around the room. The place looks like a hospital ward - there are white walls and linoleum floors, standard issue bedside lockers, and there are two other beds in the room, both unused, sky blue curtain dividers pulled back and fastened at the wall. 

“My name is Kim Woojin, I’m a Healer,” the man’s voice is warm and soothing, like honey water. “Do you remember what happened?”

Felix’s mind flashes wildly back to the events of the afternoon. “T-there was an explosion,” he stutters. _Boy with slash marks. Girl in black smoke. Ghostly hands, like the promise of death_. “The Millennials were there. A-and the Defenders. There was a fight.”

Woojin sits beside his bed, so Felix doesn’t have to keep craning his neck to look at him. His expression is rather more reserved now.

“Do you remember anything that happened to you, in particular? A white light, a painful sensation of some sort?”

Felix’s skin tingles again, particularly on his face, warm and freezing at the same time, and he shivers.

“Maybe...?”

“Felix-ssi,” the other man says gently. “What year were you born in?”

 _What kind of question is that_ , the panicked thought runs through Felix’s head, then, but the wispy memory of a girl’s voice breaks through his consciousness, then.

“ _Oppa, he’s a Millennial! The kid’s a Millennial_!”

Felix feels his heart start to race, thudding dully in his chest. “The girl who could teleport, she said-...she said I was...”

He trails off, glancing up worriedly. 

“A Millennial?”

Hearing it said out loud like that makes Felix think - to be honest, in his own personal bubble, it doesn’t sound all that life-shattering. Millennials are people, after all, just like everyone else.  _But what about Mom? What about Rachel, and Changbin and Chaeryeong?_

 _What if they hate you_?

“She’s right,” Woojin says quietly, then. “You’re a Millennial, the latest ever recorded to Manifest. How do you feel about that?”

 _What if Dad doesn’t want you to come home_?

“What...what is it that I can do, Woojin-ssi?” Felix asks warily, checking his hands and legs, nervously. _At least it isn’t something obvious._

Woojin smiles wearily. “Yours is something special, Felix. It’s called Surrender. At least for now, if you touch anyone, their Enhancements stop working, until you let go.”

For one wild, Breaking Dawn Bella-esque moment, Felix is disappointed, _what, that’s the lamest power ever._ But then he thinks of the kid with the fire hands, and backtracks, cautious relief bubbling inside him. If it’s a silent Enhancement, no one will be able to tell, right? Life can just go back to normal, right?

“It’s the reason why I had such a hard time Healing you just now,” the older man chuckles, looking relieved that Felix isn’t freaking out. He raises a hand, and Felix’s eyes widen when his palm starts to glow blue. “I did what I could, but I added some old-fashioned measures, just to be sure,” he nods towards the expertly done bandage on Felix’s arm, and the cute cartoon band-aid on his leg.

“You can heal people when you touch them?” Felix finds himself blurting out. “That’s really cool.” 

“It’s nice that you think so,” Woojin says graciously. “I’m in charge of Healing for the Seoul Base Defenders. They sent you straight to me.” 

“You heal the _Defenders_?” Felix’s jaw drops. Somehow Woojin’s job just got infinitely cooler. Also, wait, the _Defenders themselves_ sent Felix here? Why the heck wasn’t he awake for that, at least?

“Don’t say that like it’s a good thing, it takes _forever_ to sit them down for a Healing when they’re hurt,” Woojin rolls his eyes, making Felix laugh. “I’m glad you’re taking this well - some of the Millennials who Manifest later go into denial, it’s really bad for their health.” 

“Do I have to get Registered now, then?” Felix asks meekly, when everything starts to click. Hiding this Enhancement might be easy, he realises, but the Tracker would be a dead giveaway. Maybe he can feign a sudden new obsession with wrist bandannas, or something-...

“The correct answer would be yes, but really, it’s up to you,” Woojin says gently, surprising Felix. _This guy works for the government, but he’s telling me I can choose?_ “The MSR doesn’t know about you yet. You can ask me all the questions you’d like, but at the end of the day, the choice is yours.” 

“I can just hide it, right?” Felix blurts out hopefully. “No one will find out unless they’ve got Enhancements themselves, I can just,” his voice grows smaller. “Keep it to myself for now right?” 

Woojin is watching him cautiously, dark eyes deep in thought. Slowly, without averting his eyes, then, the older man takes something out from Felix’s bedside table - it’s a rectangular bedside mirror.

“If it’s worth anything to you,” he says quietly, then. “I think yours is very beautiful.”

Felix’s heart plummets as the realisation hits him, like the tingles through his cheeks.

He stares at his reflection as it approaches, stares at the pale flecks, dusted like snowflakes among his freckles, like a blizzard curling upwards and tapering off under his eyes. He touches the white marks, rubbing at the skin, expecting them to come off at any moment, like cheap makeup.

“How do I...” he croaks, trailing off. He’s thinking of Xiyeon now, of walking around school with this and watching heads turn in his direction. He sees fear in Chaeryeong’s eyes, disgust in Chan’s, judgement and quiet whispers from people he doesn’t even know. “What can I...?”

“Your Mark is part of you, just like a limb, or the colour of your eyes,” Woojin says gently. “You have to first accept it before you can do anything else.” 

“My family, they don’t know,” Felix babbles, panic rising, rubbing at the white flecks again. _How can I hide this?_  “What if they-...?

“It’s okay, take it easy,” Woojin says reassuringly. “All Millennials have to go through this process – how your family reacts isn’t something you can entirely control. Who are you closest to, your mother?” 

Felix glances at the other man, mind scrambling. _Rachel, Rachel was cool when I came out to her, this should be okay, right?_ “My older sister. She lives just over an hour from here.” 

“We can start there, then,” Woojin nods encouragingly. “Meet her in person when you’re ready, okay?”

Felix glances out the window, stomach turning over as he tries to think of how to get back to his dorm. Maybe he can invest in one of those half masks the Millennials always wear...

Woojin sighs, then, reaching to take a plastic bag from the bedside table. “I thought you’d want this when you woke up. The shade should be right, you’re about the same as a friend of mine...”

Felix stares dumbly at the bottle of liquid foundation Woojin takes out from the bag, along with some makeup sponges. 

“You bought this?” He asks, voice gaining back some strength.

“Those that Manifest later usually use this to cover up till they’re ready to tell everyone, I thought you’d want it too,” Woojin falters slightly, checking Felix’s expression. “I mean, if you’re okay wearing makeup, and all-…”

“Thank you,” Felix feels giddy from the rush of relief. “You didn’t have to, thank you _so much_ -...”

“Just remember, okay?” the older man says warmly but firmly, lifting the bottle. “This is only a temporary solution. You have to accept yourself, and let yourself be accepted by others. Not the way Park Junghyun does, not the way Choi Raesung does, but the way _you_ accept yourself, okay?” 

Felix’s fingers hesitate around the bottle, feeling the weight of that statement hit him. He does think it's a little weird, though, that Woojin would speak of the other Millennials like he knows them personally. “I will.”

Woojin offers a thin smile, then, pressing the bottle into Felix’s hands. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave. I’ll bring you down to-…” he straightens, suddenly, dark eyes alert as he whirls around. “Careful, he’s awake!”

It’s just then Felix registers the sound of the door swinging, of the silhouette in the frosted glass window of the corridor outside hesitating, before retreating back, footsteps sharp.

“Uhm,” Felix tries not to squeak out. “Who was that?”

“You’re technically not supposed to be here,” Woojin’s smile is back when he faces Felix again, and he lowers his voice conspiratorially. “But don’t worry. You’ve got some people in very high places looking out for you.”

“Who?”

Woojin blinks innocently, before grinning. “Why, me, of course,” he opens the bedside locker, taking out Felix's bag. "In all seriousness, though, is there anything you'd like to ask me? About the Enhancements or otherwise?”

Felix is running everything through his mind, then, when something occurs to him.

“What do you mean by _for now?_ ” he asks, confused.

“Sorry?”

“Just now, uhm, you said this is what my Enhancement can do, “at least for now”,” Felix elaborates, slightly embarrassed. “What…do you mean by that?”

“Enhancements rarely stay the same from the time that you Manifest,” Woojin explains calmly. “You’re thinking of it as a superpower. Don’t. Think of it as a muscle, or a limb,” he twists his wrist, fingers curling smoothly in demonstration. “As far as your Enhancement is concerned right now, you’re an infant. You’ll only get used to using it over time, with practice.”

 _What’s there to get the hang of? I can’t even stop it even if I wanted to._ “Is there…more I can do with it?”

Woojin’s expression turns reserved, for a moment. “I meant to talk with you about that too...that…so far, at least, they don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Felix blinks. “But…weren’t there scientists who made it? Like all the other Enhancements? How could they not know?”

The other man pauses, then, like he’s not sure how to phrase something, or if he even wants to tell Felix at all.

“Surrender’s an Enhancement that was…never successful,” the older man says, voice gentle again, like Felix is made of glass. “No matter how hard R&D tried, no matter how many experiments they dedicated to even getting a rough formula out, they could never work out the radiation for it.”

The younger boy stares, letting this information sink in.

“The radiation that hit you was a perfect experimental fluke,” Woojin says softly. “Which means that now, Defender or Millennial regardless, you’re the only one in the entire world with this Enhancement, Felix.”

Felix’s mind is buzzing with the implications of that statement, feeling a weight sink in his gut as he thinks it over. _What would that mean?_

He can’t let anyone know about this. At least for now. Not when there are so many factors, so many people out there who know more than he does right now. 

“Felix? You still with me?” Woojin asks in concern, then, and Felix’s shaken out of his thoughts.

“I’m – yeah,” he mumbles, looking down, reaching for his bag. His hand is shaking. “Okay. Thank you for telling me all this, Woojin-ssi.”

“Felix,” the older man says quietly, as he stands, then. “Just remember, alright?” He’s watching Felix with an almost wistful fondness. “The Mark is part of who you are, but it’s not _everything_ you are.”

He takes a few steps back, turning with a wave and a gentle reminder that he'll be back in 20 minutes to bring Felix out, before he’s out of the room, leaving Felix sitting there, wondering what exactly had just happened.

*

The grey walls of Felix’s single room feel more oppressive than ever as he sits cross-legged on his bed, fiddling with his phone.

His room is a mess - his textbooks are open and tossed aside on the sheets from when he’d tried to distract himself with homework and failed, and his laptop’s open, frozen in the middle of a Spotify playlist when Felix realised music wasn’t going to help his nerves. All this was on top of the general untidiness that usually overtook Felix’s room during test seasons, when he couldn’t be bothered to clean.

He jumps when his phone buzzes, feeling his heart start to race as he checks the screen.

**_empress dowager lee_ ** _[9:32pm]  
im here open the door before I kick it down_

Feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably, he hooks the half mask on, before hurrying over to open the door.

Rachel sweeps in like a hurricane.

“Two months,” she declares, inspecting the place, casually dumping all the bags in her hands on the floor, since his table is full. “And your place is already a sty.”

“Rachel-…” Felix starts hesitantly, voice muffled through the mask.

“Are you sick? You haven’t been eating those vitamin C pills Mom gave you, have you?” Rachel squints. She’s already starting to tidy, gathering clothes off the floor and chair (and…everywhere else) and tossing them into his hamper. “How long has this jacket been under your table? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“Rae _-_ …”

“It’s _noona_ here,” Rachel says, before switching effortlessly to Korean. “You’d think I’d speak more Korean after coming back here and writing for the _Chosun Ilbo_ , but sometimes I just feel like a glorified translator.”

“ _Noona_ ,” Felix finally raises his voice a little, and Rachel looks over quizzically. Already, the floor of the tiny room is actually almost clean. “There’s-….there’s something I wanted to talk with you about.”

“Yeah, I figured from your text,” Rachel picks up the plastic bag from the floor, switching back to English, simply because she knows he’s more comfortable with it. “I went out on a hunch and assumed you were having boy troubles so I bought some Ben and Jerry’s. I hope you’re ready to bitch his ass into the next century, all the men here are snakes,” she lifts a tub of Cherry Garcia with a campy smile, clearly trying to cheer him up, and that’s when Felix feels himself start to choke up.

“Oh, _Lix_ ,” Rachel tuts, taking a step forward, about to pull him into a hug. “C’mon, let’s talk about it. Why the-…?”

That’s when Felix pulls off the mask, feeling his gut constrict painfully at the way Rachel pauses.

Her arms drop to her sides, and Felix feels himself panic. _This was a mistake._

“Really?” Rachel says then, sounding unimpressed.

Felix blinks tears out of his eyes.

“What?”

“Did you think, what, I’d suddenly want you cut out of the inheritance because you were born in a certain year?” Rachel cracks a smile. It’s like they’re kids again back in Sydney, when 6-year-old Felix accidentally broke one of Rachel’s Barbies and cried when he confessed, only to have Rachel laugh at the situation for five minutes (and steal all his Lego after that).

“I’m a _Millennial_ ,” Felix wipes the corners of his eyes, feeling a little foolish now, but also so relieved he could probably just collapse onto his bed right now. Which he kind of does. “Doesn’t that mean _anything_?”

“Mom and I kind of saw it coming a mile away, to be honest,” Rachel shrugs. “She thought since you were past the sensitive age, you’d be safe, but I guess it just decided to Manifest later.”

“Do you think Mom-…?” Felix winces, looking expectantly at his older sister.

She tuts again. “You have such little faith in us. Mom’s going to be fine with the news, ‘Lix, she’d love you even if you went to jail (don’t test that theory, though). And Dad-…” Felix doesn’t miss the way she hesitates here. “Dad’s going to have to get used to it. C’mon, they’ve invested way too much in your education to disown you now.”

“Olivia…?”

“We’d be lucky if she knows or cares what a Millennial is. She’s probably going to try to talk Dad into letting her stay in Sydney,” Rachel rolls her eyes. “Stop _worrying_ , ‘Lix, it’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Felix sighs, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t know, just, sitting in that fancy hospital room, hearing that I was born a freak and I’ve got to live with this mark for the rest of my life…it was kind of scary for a while.”

“You know what’s scary?” Rachel crosses her arms. “The fact that the Ben and Jerry’s has just been sitting there for the past ten minutes and you haven’t even looked at it. Are you sure you’re my little brother?”

“Har har, that’s right, invalidate my distress,” Felix retorts, as he reaches for the bag. Joking about it like this does make him feel better, though, especially when he’s ascertained that he probably won’t be kicked out of the family.

“Uh uh,” Rachel smacks his hand away. “Not until you tell me what it is.”

Felix stares at her blankly, holding his injured hand protectively. “What what is.”

Rachel gestures meaningfully at his face. “Your _superpower_ , _duh_. What else did you get that Mark for? No wait, let me guess,” she holds a hand up, thinking. “You can shoot lasers out of your eyes.”

“No-…”

“Damnnit. You can fly?”

“I wish,” Felix groans.

“You can…” Rachel reaches in the air for an imaginary idea. “Speak to animals?”

Felix scrunches his face up. “I’m not a _Disney princess_ , noona.”

Rachel snorts. “That’s a shocker.”

Felix gets the feeling that Rachel and Chaeryeong would get along very well. “What does that even _mean_ -…”

“I give up,” Rachel pulls open the tub of ice cream, taking a plastic spoon from the bag because she’d correctly predicted Felix would have no usable cutlery in his room. “C’mon, spill, the ice cream is melting.”

“Well, uhm, when I,” Felix extends a hand uselessly. “You know when I touch people, people with Enhancements. Their uh. Their Enhancements stop working.”

Rachel puts a spoon of ice cream in her mouth. “No offence,” she says, mouth full. “But that is the _lamest_ -…”

“I _know_ , right?” Felix says, exasperated. “I have to deal with _this_ on my face but I can’t even teleport or have super strength?”

“It’s such a weird one, though,” Rachel squints. “I’ve never heard of it before, not even on any Defender. What’s it called again?”

Felix pauses, then, wondering if he should tell her what he’d heard today from Woojin. But if Rachel couldn’t be trusted, then who could, honestly?

“There was someone, someone who works with Defenders,” Felix winces, knowing he’s going to have to tell the full story about today after this. “He said…the radiation that gave me this Enhancement was a fluke. The Defenders’ R&D scientists could never get it right, so I’m the only one out of all the Millennials and Defenders with this Enhancement. Probably forever,” he adds a little miserably.

When he looks up again, Rachel looks uncharacteristically worried. “Really? Who is this guy? Can he be trusted?”

“He seemed like he was looking out for me. I trust him,” Felix says, then, wondering why exactly it is that he’s so confident about it. There’s just…something about Woojin, something about the look in his eyes, that made Felix feel like he was on his side.

Rachel narrows her eyes, but lets it go. “There’s obviously a ton of other things to this story, but first, you haven’t told anyone else about this yet, right?”

When Felix shakes his head, she looks relieved. “I don’t know, ‘Lix…you having something the rest don’t might attract unnecessary attention.”

“From the Millennials?” Felix thinks back, with alarm, to today. _Shit_ , he’d totally forgotten, the Millennials _knew_. They knew his face and what Enhancement he had. But they wouldn’t come after him, right? He didn’t have anything they wanted, he tried to reassure himself.

“Not just that,” Rachel lowers her voice, speaking exclusively in English now, though they’d been comfortably conversing in a mix of both just now. “’Lix, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay? I heard a couple of things at work this week. Things about the Defenders.”

Following in their mother’s footsteps, Rachel had decided to pursue journalism upon coming back to Korea. Being confidently bilingual gave her some considerable clout, and while that meant an automatic ticket to the lifestyle pages, she got updates from her friends at the crime desk all the time. Felix leans in, feeling worried.

“What kind of things?”

“They say there’ve been thefts. At the Defenders’ R&D labs,” she smiles wryly. “Someone broke in and stole a bunch of Enhancements. We don’t know when exactly, but it was definitely within these few weeks.”

“ _What_?” Felix’s eyes widen. “Which ones?”

“Don’t know,” Rachel shrugs. “I’ll bet the Defenders themselves don’t even know it’s happened either. The ones on top know how to keep everyone on a need to know basis.”

“But actual, legitimate Enhancements were _stolen_! Shouldn’t this be all over the news, or something?”

“Good money was paid to keep it buried,” Rachel grimaces. “You’ve seen the way they market the Defenders, right? Image is _everything_ to them. There’s a bunch of other dirty things that go down behind the scenes, things with experimentation and everything, but they’ve always been able to keep it under wraps. I just…don’t trust them, ‘Lix. And since the MSR’s pretty synonymous with the organisation in charge of the Defenders…”

“I guess that rules out getting Registered, huh,” Felix smiles weakly. “Does that make me a rogue Millennial, then?”

“Just don’t blow up anything and you’ll be good, little bro,” Rachel rolls her eyes. “Keep it on the down low and stay safe for now, okay?”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs. While the fear of what lies ahead makes him apprehensive, the relief of having this turn out okay is enough to smother that, for now.

 _Weird, though._ The thought of actual, legitimate Enhancements being stolen – those were incredibly highly guarded, anyone who broke in to get those would have to be pretty powerful themselves. How could something as important as that just get buried?

And if they got their hands on an Enhancement, it’d just get worse. Felix shivers at the thought of having a _supervillain_ on their hands.

“Now,” Rachel announces, breaking through his train of thought. “I’ve got a few hours left till the last train, what say we clean up your wreck of a room while you tell me _everything_ that happened today?” She stands up to stretch, like they’ve just finished a conversation about an interesting movie, or something along those lines. The normalcy is weird but comforting, as she starts to tidy up his textbooks. “Anymore existential crises I should know about, by the way? How about something exciting this time, like cute boys, maybe?”

“What if I said-…” Felix hesitates, then, flushing at the thought of Changbin, and Rachel looks over quizzically. “There…maybe…was a boy?”

Rachel drops the textbook she’d been holding. She crosses the tiny room in one step, stuffs the pint of ice cream into Felix’s hands, and sits right next to him, pinning him with a frightening (but also hilarious) expectant look.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, A WOOJIN,
> 
> k the fic's done bye guys
> 
> jk we still need bby jeongin!! also no action longfic is an action longfic without a big final battle containing lots of hot dramatic bodyslams so please anticipate that
> 
> i hope yall enjoyed the woojin and more felix-centric stuff (plus more stuff!! about the ACTUAL plot!!) again im super excited to hear your predictions hehe, your comments all always give me life, thank yall for taking the time to leave them :"") the changlix has yet to Peak but [RnJ voice] violent delights have violent ends
> 
> (changlix peak will be much later on HAH)
> 
> kudos and comments will be given nice ice cream <3


	8. 007.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which felix discovers he's not the only spearB fan in the universe, and also gets confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew this took some time

Felix feels like he’s bubbling with nervous dread as he hurries to the cafeteria the next day, checking his reflection one last time in his phone camera to make sure the makeup is working.

So far today, it’s been a success - he’d been self-conscious in class but soon realised that honestly, everyone was too wiped out by assignments to bother staring too long at someone else’s face. Chaeryeong hadn’t even noticed he was wearing makeup, instead spending the class drilling him on why he hadn’t showed up for lecture yesterday.

“Let me guess,” she whispers loudly, chin propped up on her palm. Her long, dark hair tumbles down over her shoulders as she squints at him, chin propped up on her white rose sweater paw (Chaeryeong is the only person under 50 that Felix knows with a floral theme obsession she can actually pull off).

Her notes are untouched – she’s usually very conscientious about paying attention in lectures, but apparently invading Felix’s personal privacy takes precedence over academia. “It was a tryst. You ran off with that boy for some passionate lovemaking in your exclusive single room.”

“It was _not_ a tryst, Ryeong,” Felix hisses, trying to understand what the professor’s saying about DNA aberrations while defending himself from rumours of his non-existent scandals. “And what _boy_ are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like I haven’t seen your Insta stories, oppa,” Chaeryeong smirks, over the drone of the professor. “I think he’s your type, don’t worry, the strong and stoic kind usually attract dumb blondes.”

This takes a moment to process, doing absolutely nothing to refute Chaeryeong’s claim. Then Felix splutters. “Did you just-…? Call me a-…”

“Not important,” the younger girl snaps her fingers, managing to do so in an absolutely derogatory way that somehow doesn’t disturb anyone else around her but Felix. “Where were you yesterday, oppa? You missed a stimulating discussion on the merits of _C. elegans_ worms as model organisms.”

Felix sighs, deciding he should just try to tell her as much of the truth as he can. “You know that…that explosion that happened near school yesterday?”

“No _way_ ,” Chaeryeong’s eyes go wide. “Oppa, you got caught in that? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell us? I would’ve come to find you!” Her brows crease a little in confusion then. “A friend of mine visited his girlfriend in the hospital with the rest yesterday too, but they didn’t see you there…?”

“I uhm, they released me early, I didn’t get hurt,” Felix fibs quickly, feeling his face grow warm. “It wasn’t anything much, really.”

“Well, you should’ve texted me,” Chaeryeong insists stubbornly. Then something clicks behind her eyes. “Wait…does that mean you _saw the Defenders_?”

A lump shoots into Felix’s throat at the thought of that, as he uselessly scribbles a note on epigenetic inheritance in the margins of his printed Powerpoint slides. “Well. Uhm-…”

“Ohmy _GOD_ ,” Chaeryeong hisses, bodily shaking him with two hands. “They came in and saved you, didn’t they? Flew you out of the wreckage bridal style and everything?”

“They didn’t _fly me out_ ,” Felix wheezes in a whisper, head spinning. “Ryeong _stop_ , we’re disturbing people-…”

“I’m getting invested in this conversation too, keep him going,” the girl behind them remarks to Chaeryeong, who nods vigorously.

“Well, oppa?” The younger girl demands, crossing her arms, any notion of paying attention to the lecture totally forgone.

“Well _what_?”

“What did you _do_?” Chaeryeong gestures. At least three other people around them are actively listening in to this conversation now. “Did you manage to drop them your number? Feel up their biceps? Did you _smell them?_ ”

“ _Ryeong!_ ”

“ _At least_ tell me you managed to get a mutual follow.”

“There was _nothing_ ,” Felix sinks further in his seat, insisting in a hushed voice to a growing audience. “There was no touching, _SpearB_ just asked me if I was okay-…”

There’s a collective awed gasp from around him. One of the boys is starting to snack on a packet of nuts like one would with popcorn.

“He _asked you_? _Personally_?” Chaeryeong interrogates. “Up _close_? And you _didn’t_ immediately fall on the floor with your legs open?”

“What the _heck,_ Ryeong-…”

“Any guy would do the same,” the younger girl scoffs. “You’re a twink with a planet-sized fanboy crush on him, oppa, I would’ve expected worse.”

Felix splutters, turning red. “Thanks? I guess?”

“Answer the _question_.”

The boy backtracks, feeling steadily more and more embarrassed. “He wasn’t up _close_ , he just sort of,” he fumbles here, not sure how to word it in his shaky Korean. “Sort of picked me up-…”

Chaeryeong half slams the flimsy lecture theatre folding table at her seat. There’s a two-and-a-half seat radius of people earnestly watching the drama go down, now, while the professor keeps going. Her voice drops to a deadly, intense hush. “You were in his _arms_?”

A dreamy sigh rises from the audience.

“It doesn’t! Matter!” Felix tries to say it as quietly as any exclamation mark will permit. “Because we’re never going to see each other again, and it’s his job, and-…”

“You’ve got it so _bad_ it’s sad,” Chaeryeong sighs, shaking her head, picking up her phone, probably in the process of throwing Felix under the bus for Twitter clout.

Felix buries his face in his hands, remembers he can’t because of his makeup, and spends a very miserable remaining ten minutes in lecture, scribbling down notes on carcinomas.

*

Lunchtime is his only saving grace.

“Damn,” Minho comments as Felix dumps his bag on a chair. “Lecture did a number on you, huh?”

“Lee Chaeryeong is a curse,” the younger boy grumbles, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Minho grins, then, and Felix would’ve noticed the way he’d subtly picked up his phone, probably (definitely) firing off a text to the aforementioned infamous freshman in their dance crew, if another chair hadn’t been dragged out at that moment.

Felix jumps when Changbin drops his bag in it, before taking off his cap for a moment to push his hair back. He looks exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and lips chapped, drowning in another black hoodie and jeans. “Hey guys. Felix, wanna get food?” He glances at Minho, frowning at the shit-eating grin on his face. “Hyung, whatever world domination you’re planning, can it at least wait till we’ve eaten? I’m starved.”

“Oh, go on ahead. Sungie’s helping me buy lunch, and Chan’s dead in a ditch somewhere, probably,” Minho shoos them off, looking way too smug to be normal. “Take your time!”

Felix feels Changbin tug on his arm, and they go off into the lunch crowd together, weaving through groups of students.

“Should we…” Felix says meekly. “Be worried about Minho hyung?”

“Knowing him, he’s probably just messing with us,” Changbin snorts, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. He looks so _tired_ , and for a moment Felix’s heart wrenches.

“You okay, hyung?” He asks worriedly.

“Oh, it’s fine, just some outside commitments getting stressful. Chan’s having it worse, he barely sleeps these days,” Changbin smiles tightly, perking up considerably after that. “How are you, though?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Felix says cautiously. The older boy looks concerned, almost like he _knows_. “Why?”

“Ah,” the older boy shrugs. “You uh, you heard about that big explosion nearby yesterday? Was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Felix clams up, wondering if he should tell Changbin about being caught there yesterday. He thinks back to the interrogation in Bio lecture, and reconsiders. _To be honest, though, I haven’t heard Changbin or the rest talk about Defenders at all, other than Minho…_ he’d just assumed they’d have the same hero worship for the Defenders that everyone else did. “I heard it got pretty awful.”

They’re standing in queue now, and the older boy reaches up behind Felix then, hand resting gently, stiffly, on his shoulder. “Ah, well,” he says, with a short laugh. “Anything that happens, you know we’re all here for you, right?”

Felix is momentarily rattled, heart rate spiking, not quite sure what that means.

“Tests and stuff can get pretty stressful, and it’s your first year,” Changbin goes on hastily, and Felix lets out an internal sigh of relief. “Not saying I don’t think you can manage, it’s just, we’re here, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah!” the younger boy turns around, beaming, then. “Thanks, hyung. I really appreciate it.”

Changbin’s hand lingers on Felix’s shoulder, smile static for a while. He’s looking at Felix’s face, and for a panic-inducing moment, Felix wonders if the makeup has rubbed off.

“You,” the older boy mumbles, then, pushing them further along as the queue moves. “You look good, Felix.”

“Uhm,” Felix unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth, trying to will away his shock and formulate a proper response to that at the same time. “…thanks?”

Changbin clears his throat, then, taking out his phone. “By the way! You free next Saturday?” He smiles, properly this time. “Remember the awareness carnivals I told you about, the ones for Millennial rights? There’s one next week, MSR-sponsored, Jisung and I are thinking of heading down. You want to come with?”

“That’d be cool!” Felix perks up. “Yeah, I’m down.”

“Cool. Sungie and I are going to convince the others to come too, Chan’s gotta get his head out of his work _some_ time,” the older boy grins, then, and it feels like they’ve returned to the back-and-forth Felix is so used to, and relief pours over his soul. Changbin nudges Felix with his elbow - the contact is brief but makes Felix’s heart stutter, anyway. “So how was that test you got an A for, anyway, genius?”

They talk all the way back to the table, where Jisung’s returned and is currently whispering with Minho, looking over furtively at the two of them and giggling.

Felix narrows his eyes.

Nothing happens as they sit down and start eating, discussing lectures and tests and the dance crew, and Felix lets himself relax. Big mistake.

“So,” Minho drawls, just as Felix is wrestling the meat off a piece of bone. “Hear about that big explosion near school yesterday?”

 _Lee Chaeryeong_.

Felix visibly panics, just barely saving himself from choking and making himself out to be even more of a loser in front of Changbin. Jisung is snickering.

Thankfully, Minho doesn’t call him out on that. Maybe Chaeryeong’d decided to be less of an ass and deduced that Felix would want a little more privacy on that front. “Got pretty bad, didn’t it?”

“It was a fucking mess,” Changbin grumbles, barely paying attention to the conversation. “On both sides. End of story.”

 _Damn_. He doesn’t sound like much of a fan of the Defenders or the rogue Millennials. Felix feels a nervous prickle run over his cheeks again, and averts his eyes.

“I thought it was pretty cool,” Minho ignores Changbin expertly. “Especially when the Defenders came in, you know, and there was that big _fight_ and everything out on the street.”

“Who caught your eye, hyung?” Jisung asks, batting his eyelids, and Minho laughs.

“My _hero_ , _J1_ , of course,” the older boy swoons, and Felix laughs nervously. This must be an inside joke between them, or something, because he and Jisung immediately start laughing, and Changbin rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “Sungie and I are captains of the _J1_ fanclub. All applications have to go through us, so get in line, Felix.”

“Oh?” Felix raises a brow, downing a spoon of broth. “So all those practice sessions you and Ryeong spent drooling over _TY,_ then-…”

The way Jisung’s face falls is almost comical. Felix didn’t even know Jisung took the fan culture that seriously, to be honest, or that he even liked the Defenders at all. Apparently this whole _J1_ fanclub thing means a lot to him. “ _Hyung?_ ”

“Shush, shush, not here,” Minho flaps a hand in Felix’s face.

“You’ve got _three_ Defenders’ dog tags on your gym bag, hyung,” Felix continues, starting to enjoy himself. “And if I recall correctly, none of them were _J1’s_.”

“ _Hyung?!”_

“Probably got stuck in the mail,” Minho shrugs, pinning Felix with a look that lets him know he’s going to regret saying that, before very professionally changing the subject. “So, _Felix_ ,” his smile is bordering on devilish, resting his chin on his hand with a blithe sway. “ _SpearB_ , huh.”

Changbin chokes.

The couple immediately start laughing, while Felix’s face burns, muttering curse words under his breath as he digs into his bag, offering Changbin some tissue.

“Thanks,” the older boy takes one, coughing into it. “You’re a,” he clears his throat, looking elsewhere. “You’re a _SpearB_ fan?”

“No- okay, yeah, I am, maybe,” Felix glares at Minho. “Is there…anything wrong?”

“No, no nothing’s wrong,” Changbin takes a drink of water, before going back to his food, like nothing had happened. He’s definitely a lot redder than he was before, though, probably from choking.

“Changbin’s a big _SpearB_ fan too,” Minho whispers conspiratorially. “Has all his merch.”

“Oh!” Felix feels a little relieved. “Cool, why’d you never say it before? I would buy more if I wasn’t so broke, I only have his dog tag and the cap.”

Changbin is turning impossibly redder, for reasons Felix can’t begin to fathom, and he mumbles something along the lines of _that’s nice._

“Oh, it is,” the eldest at the table raises a brow, smiling sweetly in Felix’s direction. “So what do you like about _SpearB_ , Felix?”

“Hyung, I still kind of want to _eat_ -…”

“Chaeryeong sent me a _very long list_ , it’s either you tell it or I do, Felix.”

 _I need better friends_.

“Okay, what about you share what you like about _J1_ , then?” Felix splutters. _Why am I the only one getting attacked here?_ And really, why are they even talking about this all of a sudden?

To his surprise, Minho actually takes the question seriously. “Well, his Enhancements are really cool! Did you know he outstrips more than 75% of the Defenders in terms of speed stats? And he’s cute, and hardworking, and no offence,” he directs this to Changbin with a snicker, for some reason. “His promotional posters are the best in SKZ, hands down.”

“And he’s very cool,” Jisung insists.

“Yes, Jisung,” Minho pats his arm reassuringly. “He’s very cool.”

Felix doesn’t quite know what to say to that, and he tries to return to his food with a simple _that’s cool_ , but Minho doesn’t let him off that easy.

“Well, Felix?”

“Everything of what you said,” Felix replies, stuffing a spoon of rice in his mouth.

“ _Oh really_?” Minho says, sounding absolutely diabolical as he takes out his phone. “Because Chaeryeong told me you had an entire _SpearB_ photo album dedicated _specifically_ to his-…”

“Okay _stop, stop_ ,” the younger boy swears in his head. “Okay. _SpearB_ is just,” he gestures feebly, suddenly aware that Changbin is watching him. “Very cool, okay? Sorry, my Korean isn’t that great.”

“Excuses,” Minho tuts. “What else do you like about him? If your Korean is good enough to cuss out my latest choreography then it’s good enough for this.”

“He…has,” Felix gestures unhelpfully, extremely self-conscious. “A nice voice?”

“It’s not even his _real_ voice, all of them are digitally altered to protect their identities anyway,” Jisung rolls his eyes. The other 2000-liner frowns, then.

“Wait, really?”

Jisung suddenly pales, like he said something he shouldn’t have. “Uhm. Well, I mean, I _guess_ so, I mean, it doesn’t make sense for them to use their _actual_ voices, what if they spoke to someone they knew?”

Felix nods slowly, now feeling kind of dumb, _yeah that makes sense._

“Don’t change the subject,” Minho tuts. “Go on, Felix. Need a refresher? Ryeong says you spent an afternoon losing it about his biceps. Changbin, wouldn’t you agree?”

Felix groans, burying his face in his hands, as Jisung lets out another hysterical giggle.

“You did?” Changbin asks quickly, then, and Felix flushes impossibly harder. “I mean, yeah, of course he does. _SpearB_ has awesome muscles.”

“And sweet combat moves,” Minho adds encouragingly.

“Extremely loyal,” Jisung continues importantly.

“And he works hard,” Felix finds himself saying.

“Yeah, exactly,” Minho eggs him on.

“And he’s really serious about his duty to the point he’s always overworking himself and he has a soft spot for animals and though he tries to play it cool most of the time he’s actually really soft, which is…cute?”

“Perfect,” the eldest praises, for reasons Felix isn’t exactly sure of. This isn’t so much his concern, though, because Changbin is staring at him and trying very much to look like he’s not staring at him. Is there something on his face?

“Speaking of overworking,” Jisung cranes his neck over the crowd, and Felix turns around, glad for the distraction. “Damn, hyung, are you okay?”

Felix turns around just as Chan pulls out a chair, settling in it heavily. He’s wrapped up in a dark green hoodie, hair unstyled and falling in his face, a wrapped sandwich in one hand.

“I heard that,” he grumbles, starting to unwrap his sandwich. The bags under his eyes are seriously making Felix concerned. “Exam week is awful, what’s new. What were you guys talking about?”

“Oh,” Minho says, though he doesn’t sound as playful as he did before. “We were just talking about the Defenders.”

Chan sighs, kneading a knuckle into his temple, looking around the table. “Ah, really? What about?”

“Jisung and Minho are Team _J1_ , and Changbin and I are Team _SpearB_ ,” Felix announces proudly. “What about you, hyung?”

“No one for Team _CB97_ huh, I see how it is,” Chan takes a bite from his sandwich, unconcerned. Jisung starts laughing immediately, and Felix follows. “Seriously though, the Defenders handle serious things, like trafficking and robbery and organised crime, and letting the fan culture dilute all of that,” he glances pointedly around the table. “Defeats their purpose.”

“Ah _hyung_ ,” Jisung whines, pouting spectacularly. “Just let us have a bit of _fun_ with this, please? The fan culture is what makes it exciting! I’ll buy a _CB97_ dog tag?” he flutters his lashes, and Changbin pretends to retch.

 _So we’ve got fans of J1, SpearB, and CB97_. It’s funny, Felix thinks, how they almost seem to mirror the three Defenders…perky, excitable _J1_ , cool and collected _SpearB_ and responsible leader _CB97_ …

“It’s true, we should let them do their own thing,” Felix mumbles then, his mind elsewhere. “I mean, they’ve probably got a lot on their plate already, what with the rogue Millennials and the Enhancement thefts and everything.”

Something shifts in the air.

“Enhancement thefts?” Felix realises Chan is looking directly at him, sandwich forgotten. There’s something different in the way he’s talking, sharper, more direct. “What do you mean?”

 _Oh, fuck_.

“I, I mean,” Felix glances around the table, realising that same look has taken over Jisung as well, the other boy looking at him intently with a slight crease in his brow. His voice grows smaller. “I just heard, maybe, there might have been thefts at the R&D labs, I don’t know-…”

Changbin clears his throat, then. “Yeah, I might’ve heard something like that too,” he’s looking at Felix, nodding slowly. “Where’d you hear it from?”

_I can’t jeopardise Rachel’s job._

“On the Internet, maybe?” Felix mumbles. “I don’t know, it might be bogus, there’s all sorts of stuff on Inven,” he laughs weakly.

“I see,” Chan says, and there’s a tone of finality in his voice that wraps up the conversation ( _for now_ , Felix gets the impression), and he leans back, taking another bite from his sandwich. “All sorts of stuff gets posted on Inven for upvotes, I wouldn’t put my money on everything being true.”

Felix laughs nervously, as the conversation moves onto quiz results and assignment deadlines, unable to think about anything other than the conversation that’d just taken place, for a moment.

_It's a little weird, that they would be so interested in the Enhancement thefts, right? It’s not like it affects them, or anything._

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was. literally 3.3k of just talking
> 
> i didn't think school starting would have such a drastic effect on my time to write but i think taking more mods this sem + increased travel time is Taking Its Toll :""") the next chapter should!! be out sooner!! (i spent a lot of time writing a spy!au instalment for skz that in the same universe as the got7 one hence the delay for this chapter,,,) 
> 
> so yes!! actual changlix For the First Time In Forever, minsung shenanigans and chan just trying to Live. also next chapter will actually have the bang bang and the exciting shit so pls look forward to that. 
> 
> comments help me SURVIVE!! all comments and kudos will be dearly loved
> 
> hmu on twitter @symmetrophobic (i made a new writing twt!) if you guys are free hehe, and please check out itzy!! (yeji and chaeryeong deserve the best!!)


	9. 008.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people don't fall in love, felix decides; they fall over love, fall over silly things like carnival games and honey fried chicken.

It’s barely a moment past midnight when the door creaks open, and two boys steps out of the darkness.

Two of the three in the room twitch by instinct, the phantom prickle of pain racing up their forearms too soon gone to forget.

Yeji drops the bag she’s holding, and it lands with a dusty thud. She’d been smiling before, but her back is straight now, muscles tense. “Need something?”

Jeno stands at the doorway. He sniffs, nose red from the cold, eyes sunken and bloodshot from the lack of sleep. Haechan is hovering just behind him, lips pressed into a thin line, making his youthful face look ten years older. “Are you leaving?”

“We told Haechan,” the girl explains cautiously. “There’s something we need to do. Besides, Raesung’s right about one thing: splitting up will make us harder to find, and we should lay low until things blow over, at least.”

The Millennial in the doorway seems to have heard none of that. His hands are shaking infinitesimally, glowing red in pulses, like the ticking of a time bomb.

The temperature seems to dip even further, then, colder than the gales blowing outside the window of the abandoned estate, and Hyunjin steps forward, arms folding across his chest, head cocked like he’s waiting for Jeno to reply.

Against his toned forearms, dotted with countless pale white scars, his fingers dissolve into smoke.

Jeno’s eyes keep darting between the three of them, but he doesn’t look afraid in the slightest. In retrospect, this isn’t very surprising – none of them are really sure what fear is, anymore. The Institution had made sure of that. “I know you’re looking for the Millennial.”

Hyunjin glances at Yeji, reading her with an ease that can only be afforded to nineteen years’ worth of knowing each other. _I didn’t tell them anything._

“Look,” Haechan clears his throat then, and some of the tension defuses. “I know it makes sense to keep a low profile, but the iron’s hot, and if you don’t strike now, you might not get to later. We can help each other out.”

“We’ll be the judge of that, thanks,” Hyunjin replies coolly. Seungmin draws closer, fingers poking out from his sweater sleeves just far enough to cling to the older boy’s shirt, the weight of his hand like a gentle but firm reminder.

“What are you proposing?” Yeji asks then, and the chilly silence subsides momentarily.

Jeno’s face doesn’t change, staring dead on. His hands are still trembling. “A public statement.”

“This is something you were planning to do from the start,” Hyunjin’s eyes narrow. “And I’m not quite sure our interests align.”

“You need a way to change his mind,” Haechan shrugs, but there’s something unmistakeably reluctant in his eyes. “The same way we need to change everyone else’s. And we have an idea.”

The silence following that is deafening. A muscle moves in Hyunjin’s jaw. “What do you have in mind? And how would we be helping?”

“Not you,” Jeno says then. His voice, hoarse and flat, hasn’t changed once since he entered this room, not a single indication of disappointment or hostility. He raises a finger, shaking though the rest of him is completely still, till it settles, pointing between Yeji and Hyunjin.

Almost by instinct, Hyunjin’s arm drifts back, wrapping around Seungmin.

Jeno’s gaze is unwavering. “Just him.”

*

Felix is expecting something about the level of a school carnival, maybe a few nicely done-up stalls in a field with music playing, but honestly, after having that come back to bite him for the Coronation, he should’ve managed his expectations.

The area is _huge_ , spanning the size of a football field, and temporary shelters with stalls are done up, donning bright lights and colourful signboards. Music is booming through speakers set up strategically along the area, the bass running through Felix’s veins as they stand in queue outside.

“We need to pay for _entrance_?” Felix blinks, almost falling backwards as he tries to take everything in his visual field at once. He swears his heart _does not_ start racing as Changbin pushes him back upright from behind.

“It’s not just stalls and stuff inside, they also showcase art and other works done by Millennials inside,” Changbin explains. “All proceeds go to Millennial Research or helping out those in need. You don’t need to pay, though.”

“I don’t?” Felix says, brow crinkling in confusion as they approach the ticketing booth.

“Nope, we don’t,” Jisung says with a grin. He passes his ID card over, and the lady hands it back after a quick scan, along with a bright blue paper wristband. It’s the colour Xiyeon always wears in those posters she does for the MSR, Felix realises. “Not if we’re born in 2000. This is just one of the perks we get here.”

Minho laughs, an arm around him, as he gets his own wristband after paying, this one in white. “Not as good as if you were a Millennial, you get to redeem free food and carnival game tokens,” he tuts, poking Jisung’s cheek. “Why weren’t you born a Millennial, huh?”

Jisung laughs, but Felix is hyperaware to the way he doesn’t look very comfortable with the sound of that – though that could just be the white flecks across Felix’s cheeks, now covered with makeup, talking.

Felix stares at his blue wristband as they walk into the carnival grounds, seeing the bustle of movement – it’s mostly groups of students and young adults, and the occasional family walking around together. In the blue evening light, the fairy lights strung up along some stalls are winking at them, and the place is imbued with the smell of cakes and chocolate – if not for the blue and white info boards set up around the place, it’d be like any other hipster art fair.

“They get vendors to come in to liven the place up a bit, it’s like any other carnival, except all the vendors have to donate a cut of their profit,” Jisung explains, as they walk on.

“Who do they donate to?”

“Well, it’s an MSR-sponsored carnival, so donations go directly to them, and they redistribute it,” Chan offers from behind. Felix had been relieved to see him come over this afternoon looking like he’d at least managed to get some sleep the night before – maybe it really _was_ just a horrible exam week. “Some of it goes to research, some of it goes to helping Millennials at risk.”

“Most of it goes to maintaining the Trackers,” Jisung mumbles out the corner of his mouth, barely audible even to Felix, who’s right beside him.

They wander through the carnival for a while, and while the setting itself is pretty, decorations and stalls tastefully done up, Felix is more enthralled to see the Millennials wandering around freely, Marks completely exposed for the world to see, participating in the activities like anyone else.

The first one he sees is a boy, five minutes in, his Mark like white ivy up the back of his neck, walking with a bunch of friends, a stick of cotton candy in his hands.

The next one is a girl, black Tracker standing out against her wrist as she aims a water gun at a game stall. Her Mark comes into view, like a pale tiara against her hairline, when she turns around to laugh with her friend after missing the target entirely. For a moment, seeing them walking around so freely, Felix is tempted to wipe off his own makeup and walk among them, proud of who he is, too.

To his surprise, he sees Chaeryeong there too, walking with a couple of her girlfriends.

“If you meet my parents, don’t mention I ever came here,” she whispers conspiratorially, when they stop to say hi. “My dad hates Millennials with a passion, I’d be toast.”

“Gotcha,” Felix says nervously, feeling a familiar prickle through his cheeks again. Most of the people here _were_ youths and students, he realised after a while – maybe the idea of Millennials didn’t sit right with the older folks.

He wanders on with Changbin and the others for a while, pausing when Minho tries out a shooting game and fails spectacularly. Jisung tries next, and bulldozes the targets without breaking a sweat.

“I play lots of arcade games,” he explains with a grin, twisting his wrist in a strangely familiar way, as Minho hugs the stuffed puppy they’d won like a precious treasure. “It’s really the same thing.”

They walk on, till they reach the blue and white info boards set up near the end, where people are milling around.

There are full body shots of different kids on each one, accompanied by a couple of paragraphs – one of them is Xiyeon, holding a violin with a smile, and the caption talks about her story. There’s a _Park Jihoon_ , who can turn lights on and off at will, a _Na Jaemin_ with superhuman speed, and a ton more spanning the wide space.

“There are a bunch more Registered Millennials, they try to get different ones to tell their story each year, but it’s difficult for some of them to be open about it,” Jisung says, when he sees Felix staring at one of the boards. “What do you think about it so far? About all of this?”

“It’s nice,” Felix says honestly. “Seeing everyone so comfortable here. I wish it could be this way for Millennials everywhere.”

Jisung sighs, then. He’s worrying his lower lip with his teeth, staring into the maze of blue and white boards. “Yeah.”

“You know,” Felix says, regretting opening his mouth as soon as he speaks. “What was it…what was it like? Growing up here, born in 2000?”

The other boy looks surprised, before remembering something. “Right, you didn’t grow up here, I keep forgetting,” he shrugs, then, nodding. “It was…alright. Things were confusing at first – some Millennials Manifested when we were toddlers, hah, before any of us even _knew_ what was normal and what wasn’t. We just grew up hoping that the percentage hit was in our favour, that we,” Jisung swallows. “That we weren’t the flukes, you know?”

Felix nods slowly, feeling his gut tighten. _Fluke. That’s all we are to everyone else_.

“The Institution was the scariest,” Jisung lets out a hollow laugh. “My best friend Manifested when we were nine, after school one day. I followed him to the principal’s office, and we just sat there, waiting for his parents to come. We were eating ring candy to cheer up,” Jisung laughs again. “Then this big black car rolled up in the driveway, and they told him to get in. A few minutes later his mom ran up to the office and asked me where he was, and I told her what happened,” the other boy zones out for a second there. “Then she just sat down on the chairs outside the office and started crying. I didn’t understand what it meant back then, but I guess she did.”

Felix swallows, lips thinning. “Is the Institution still…?”

“Around?” Jisung shrugs a little. “Yeah. After the Trackers came around and most of the Millennials were released, it sort of became like a juvenile home, where they dump Millennials with a record of criminal history. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?”

 “After the Trackers came around…?”

“Yeah,” Jisung lets out a low chuckle. “Funny story, it was kind of Junghyun, or _Xiyeon_ , who made the Trackers come around. Both her parents are pretty high up in the political ladder. When she Manifested, they started pushing hard for de-Institutionalisation, and the MSR was started three years later, with the Trackers following the year after that.”

“I guess it’s only natural she’s the poster girl for them now,” Felix prompts.

“Not everyone is as lucky as her, though,” Jisung shrugs. “Why d’you think you never see any Millennials around in Yonsei Uni, other than Xiyeon? They couldn’t study anymore once they were Institutionalised, and once they were let out, they finished high school, at most. Some of them weren’t wanted back by their families, most of them lost touch with all their friends. The situation kind of sucks, but I guess we should be grateful the Trackers happened, right?”

There’s a bitter edge to Jisung’s voice, smothered over when he laughs, then. “Sorry, I’m just ranting. Just a little sick of all the negative sentiments everywhere. Don’t you just get tired of it, sometimes?”

Felix winces, suddenly thinking back to the strange stares he’s gotten from Chaeryeong’s friends and a couple of people from the dance crew. “Stuff happened a few times, I…guess. I just thought it was because I came over from Australia, or something.”

“It might not be too bad now, while you’re in uni surrounded by people your own age,” Jisung broods. “It’s worse when you go out to work.”

“Speaking from experience?” Felix raises a brow, and Jisung laughs again.

“In a sense,” he smiles, before sighing and scrunching up his face. “Ah, I’m so glad you’re here, Felix. Minho-hyung and the others really try but sometimes I feel like they just don’t get it, you know? _Especially_ Chan-hyung.”

Felix remembers what Changbin had said about Chan, and feels a stab of conflict – it’s really not his fault things had turned out the way they did.  _I guess Jisung doesn't feel the same way..._ _or maybe I haven't been with Chan for long enough..._

“Though, I guess what’s done is done, right?” Jisung says, changing the topic with a bracing smile. “Things are changing, and compared to the way it was, we do have it pretty good now,” A light seems to switch on behind his eyes, and he turns to look at the rest. “Hey, Binnie-hyung! You guys go get seats near the central stage first, ‘Lix and I are going to buy some snacks!”

That’s all the warning Jisung gives, before he’s dragging Felix to a stall selling honey chicken and stir-fried rice cakes nearby.

“This chicken is the _best_ , want some?” He asks (though it’s not like Felix has a choice at this point). He waves the blue band around his wrist with a grin. “We get a discount.”

They end up walking back to the group, seated at the central artificial grass patch with a bunch of other people, holding equal portions of spicy and honey-fried chicken. Jisung insists they sit closer to the open wooden stage – Xiyeon would be performing later, and he’d promised he’d be there to support her.

Once they’ve all settled, though, the other millennial immediately proceeds to almost sit on Minho's lap, doing cute faces while feeding him a piece of chicken. Spurred on by the reckless bravery that’d had a hold over him since they’d come in, Felix scoots a little closer to Changbin on the cool grass, offering him a piece of chicken.

“It’s good,” is all his traitorous mouth can mumble out hopefully. “Try some?”

Changbin looks up from his phone, surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Honey fried chicken?”

“Yeah, it’s from over there.”

“That’s my favourite, how’d you know?” Changbin laughs. _What a coincidence_ , Felix thinks, except the image of Jisung’s smug grin flashes through his mind, and maybe it’s not so much of a coincidence anymore. He doesn’t think about that much more, though, because Changbin’s leaning over to bite the chicken off the skewer, and Felix’s breath hitches a little when a warm hand rests naturally on his knee, like it belongs there.

“ _Mmm_ ,” he grins, and Felix can’t help but follow the other boy’s tongue with his eyes when he licks his lips. “This is _good_. People just don’t do honey fried chicken properly anymore,” he complains, chewing.

“Yeah, it’s always either too soft or too sweet,” Felix agrees, eating a piece of chicken himself. There’s _stir fried ddeok down there_ , below the chicken, and he’s very excited about reaching that layer. “Do you know any good chicken places?”

“There are a couple around Hongdae, we should go on a chicken marathon one day,” Changbin takes out his phone, doing a quick Naver search, before grinning. “Don’t tell Chan, he’s an awful fried chicken buddy, he eats _everything_.”

Felix laughs, leaning over to look at Changbin’s phone screen. At this proximity, even in the brisk wind, he can pick up the older boy’s scent, a trendy cologne laced with the smell of rain and grass. “Okay, guess it’s down to Minho and Jisung, then.”

“Oh, yeah,” Changbin clicks a link, leading to a review of a chicken place. “Or we could just, uh,” he scrolls, but it doesn’t seem like he’s paying attention to the words. “Go together? Alone? If you’re cool with that?”

Felix tenses, not sure if he should believe what he’s hearing, feeling his stomach coil with nervous anticipation. “Oh, yeah! I guess we could do that too.”

Changbin looks over at him, then, with Felix in the middle of licking his thumb clean of sauce (why did these things always have to happen at the worst moments) and for a moment, Felix finds himself entranced, just taking in Changbin as he is.

In the evening light, illuminated by the glow of the fairy lights hanging above them, Changbin’s dark hair looks even softer, tucked under a leather cap, toned body deceptively hidden under an oversized graphic print black sweater he somehow manages to pull off, a silver ring glinting on his earlobe. His eyes are like burning coals, alight with a passion and life that’s addictive, almost, that Felix could spend a forever just drinking in.

Then the older boy reaches up, hand hesitating for just the slightest of seconds, to wipe off something from the corner of Felix’s lips.

 _I’m in the middle of a drama_ , Felix thinks desperately, heart racing like he’s just run a marathon. _I’m in the middle of a drama and I’m loving every second of it._

“T-thanks,” he mumbles, setting the chicken down and taking Changbin’s hand, wiping at the smudge of sauce with the napkin that’d come with the food.

“Don’t worry about it,” Changbin replies, half on autopilot, and Felix can’t even bring himself to look the other boy in the eye, pretty sure that his face is burning up right now.

Just then, there’s a surprised rise of voices, and some clapping, waking them both up from the moment, and Felix looks around, inhaling deeply. He’s hyperaware of the fact that he’s almost flush against Changbin’s side, their hands brushing on the artificial grass.

“ _My name is Park Xiyeon,_ ” a familiar voice comes over the speakers, and Felix cranes his neck, seeing the girl, dressed in a simple white and blue dress, sitting on a chair at the central stage, almost right in front of them, behind a sweet-looking cream piano. “ _I’m a Millennial, and my Enhancement lets me play any piece of music I’ve heard before, on any instrument._ ”

Felix straightens, listening to her message with a strange urgency, like a thirst that starts deep within him, awakened since the day he’d gotten the Mark across his face.

 _“…till I realised, we can live our lives marching to the beat you’re told to follow,”_ she says, striking a chord on the piano – it sounds sad but dreamy at the same time, a perfect harmony. _“But there’s more to life than just being a part of every song you’ve ever heard,”_ she smiles. _“Thank you for being here to listen to my first self-composed piece, “Silence”.”_

She starts to play.

Felix finds himself smiling, relaxing, as the music reaches out and tugs at something deep in his chest. It’s so, so sad, but hopeful at the same time, like a tragedy’s just struck the sands of time and been smoothened over by a passing wave. The notes of the song have this ability to reach in and spell out a story in one’s heartstrings, and the story is beautiful and exhausted and full to choking with pain.

He only registers, moments later, the warm arm resting around his waist, gentle enough for him to pull away if he wanted to, but purposeful enough for him to know it’s there.

The music washes over everyone, floating into the purple-blue evening sky, and Felix lets himself lean, ever so slightly, into the embrace, feeling Changbin inch closer too, and the rain scent returns, heady and beautiful.

If only this moment could last forever.

Felix closes his eyes and lets the seconds roll over him like waves at the beach, taking in the brisk chill of the evening wind against the cosy warmth of the arm around him, the tickle of artificial grass against his ankle, the smell of honey chicken and rain and…smoke?

His eyes open.

Xiyeon’s still playing the music, and no one’s noticed anything, but Felix feels hypersensitive, heart rate picking up, remembering that afternoon, trapped above the fire, choked by smoke…

He turns, wide eyes flicking nervously to Changbin, when he feels the arm around him shift – the older boy is turning around, Chan leaning over to whisper something to him, before the eldest stands without a second glance, swinging his knapsack over his shoulder and heading off.

“Where’s he going?” Felix asks anxiously.

“Just to the bathroom,” Changbin chuckles quietly, patting Felix’s hand – it’s only then he realises he’s holding onto the older boy’s arm like a lifeline. There’s a shifting movement from their other side - Jisung is making to get up as well. “The music’s nice, isn’t it?”

The smell of burning is getting stronger, and Felix swears he sees some people to his left and right look around, sniffing the air curiously, before going back to the performance in front of them. The anxiety in the pit of his stomach is getting worse – so it’s not just some hallucination, then.

“You okay?” Changbin asks quietly, then. He’s holding Felix’s hand, grip firm, like an anchor. “Felix?”

“Yeah,” Felix presses his lips together, nodding tightly, forcing himself to rationalise and relax. Maybe some overpriced food caught fire on a grill, or someone’s preparing fireworks, or something…

He looks at the stage, counting the seconds in his head, urging down the growing panic in his chest. _Things are fine_. The crowd is peaceful around them, the air is cool, and the music soothing and melancholic.

Then, just as Felix starts to relax, Xiyeon stops playing, looking up, back straight and eyes wide.

The spell breaks, then. Everyone straightens, looking around, confused and murmuring amongst one another. There’s a strange look on Xiyeon’s face, like even she doesn’t know that she’s stopped playing.

She stands, then, a natural, graceful movement, dress fluttering gently as she walks to the middle of the stage, facing the audience. Her eyes are focused but distant.

Then the house speakers whine, and a grainy recording starts to play.

“ _…-Subject A42, are you listening?”_

The hum of voices in the crowd rise a little, a sea of confused whispers of _who’s talking_ and _where is this coming from?_ It’s a gentle woman’s voice, but the sound of it sends shivers down Felix’s spine. Everyone’s heads are turning, worried faces abound, looking for some sort of explanation.

“ _If you struggle anymore, the medicine isn’t going to work, okay? We need you to be-…”_

“ _P-please let me go,”_ another voice, a boy, trembling like a leaf. He sounds young enough to be in high school. _“I don’t want anymore, it hurts-…”_

 _“A42, you’re still not listening,”_ Back to the woman. Her voice is reproachful now.

“ _My name is Jeno_ ,” some strength returns to the boy’s voice. _Jeno_. It’s one of the names Raesung had mentioned, when Felix had gotten trapped above the fire.

“ _You are a Millennial, A42, and you’re here because you did bad things, bad things which hurt people,”_ If Felix had to put a face to the voice, he would’ve guessed a young preschool teacher, gently reprimanding a wayward boy. _“Remember what happens if you struggle? If you struggle, the medicine won’t work-…”_

 _“I know it’s not a medicine!”_ There’s the creaking of metal hinges, like something is straining against a bar. His voice escalates into panicked sobbing. _“I’m sorry, I said I was s-sorry, please stop-…!”_

 _“…and we’re going to have to do these tests all over again tomorrow, and it’s really very tiring for all of us and for you, okay? So_ stop _,”_ discipline flares in that one word. _“Making trouble. And it’ll be over soon_.”

Then the recording cuts.

A buzz starts almost immediately, people turning around fearfully, some getting up and starting to move. Felix’s head is pounding from fear, from anxiety. _They were experimenting on the Millennials in the Institution._

_What’s going to happen now? What does this mean?_

The crowd goes pin-drop silent, then, as Xiyeon raises something. It’s a little remote with a blue button on it.

“End the MSR,” she says blankly, voice picked up clearly through the little clip-on mic on her jacket.

She presses the button.

And everything explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is UP my chickadees
> 
> ok i half lied, this is only the start of the shooting and bang bang, but the second part should be out soon bc im rly excited to write more cute boys wrecking shit!! i also finished the spy au for skz and will probably be posting it sometime this week after i get my life together and clean it up (working without a beta is starting to get to me huhu) 
> 
> anyway YEAH i hope you guys liked the seungjin appetiser, changlix main course with minsung garnish, along with dessert 5th wheel chan!! hope yall excited for the next chapter bc things are going to get intense (and plotty!!!) comments and kudos will be much loved and given nice fried chicken
> 
> p.s. HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR to those who celebrate it, eat lots and get lots of red packets friends!!
> 
> p.p.s. let me know what kind of spinoffs/side stories u guys want to see! :x like a minsung prequel/woochan accompanying piece/any chara-centric fic? looking forward to hearing from you guys hehe!!


	10. 009.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> felix thinks he should probably stop getting himself into situations like these, but life apparently has other plans for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry this is so late, but HERE!!

Felix doesn’t realise he’s on the ground until he feels someone tugging him up into a sitting position, the world swimming around him. Heat is licking at his face, and it’s more of the trauma than the explosion that has him dazed, unable to function.

“Felix. Felix,” Changbin’s voice is surprisingly calm, but urgent. “Felix, get up, come on, we’ve got to get you out of here.”

Everything is too hot, too loud, too many people screaming and crying and rushing around them, and Felix sucks in a deep breath of air, lungs stuttering at the choking smell of smoke.

_Go. We need to go._

He nods once, struggling to stand, leaning heavily on Changbin once he’s up. The panic is crawling under his skin, creating white spots in his vision, and for a moment, it almost gets too much to bear, but the firm grip over his arm grounds him, pulling him back down to Earth.

The smoke is clearing, just visible through the people screaming and running around them, and a gleaming, translucent bubble of dark purple comes into view. The shield disappears, blowing smoke away, revealing a gigantic crater of charred wood and grass. Something, _someone_ , had contained explosion within.  

 _CB97_ stands in the middle of it, uniform is singed and smoking, parts of it cleanly torn through by shrapnel, so blood stains the grey camouflage. He sways slightly as he turns, catching himself at the last minute, crouching unsteadily to heft Xiyeon’s unconscious body up over his shoulder, before taking off into the air, soaring away.

Another explosion echoes through the fairground, almost synonymous with the screams that follow. There are people on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from other bombs that’d gone off around them, Felix sees with unease. _Who’s going to help them?_

“Head for the exits!” A voice carries easily over the crowd, and Felix looks up to see another Defender, _JH97_ , in the air, gesturing towards the exits. Immediately, he feels a rush of calm over him, and the panic in the crowd is muted, slightly – an effect of the NCT member’s crowd control Enhancements. His ability to influence emotions helped a ton in situations like these. “Medical assistance will be available outside!”

_The Defenders. The Defenders are here._

Another Defender soars above them, the _MK12_ on his back prominent even in the evening light. He’s not going anywhere in particular, just surveying the crowd, like he’s searching for someone.

“Hyung!” Felix realises it’s Jisung, tugging on Changbin’s arm. “We need to go!”

“Go on ahead!” Changbin says, voice forceful over the noise of the crowd. “I’ll be there once Felix is at the ambulance!”

“Changbin,” Minho cuts in firmly, then, stuffed puppy forgotten behind them. “Go on with Jisung, I can take Felix.”

“But-…” Changbin looks at Felix, dark eyes full of worry, and despite the confusion and the panic, Felix gets a strong feeling that there’s somewhere he needs to be.

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to muster as much strength into his voice as possible. “Where will you be going?”

“Just-…not too far, there’s something I need to settle,” Changbin says reluctantly, then, clearly still conflicted, starting to jog off with Jisung, knapsack bouncing over his shoulder. “Both of you take care! The nearest exit’s over there!”

Felix feels Minho start to pull him along, and loosens his hand, feeling embarrassed as they rush along with the crowd. “I’m okay, thanks hyung, the explosion – it just gave me a scare just now.”

“Let’s get you checked up outside,” Minho smiles despite the general panic around them. “Can’t have one of my best dancers dying on me before our competition, can I?”

They circle around the large stage towards the exit, now looking so much further than it had before, with the moving sea of people between them. Felix can’t help but let his mind scramble, trying to understand everything that was happening now.

 _The Institution. The MSR, experimenting on the Millennials against their will._ What would this mean? What’s going to happen now? The MSR would be finished if this information gets verified. Their biggest proponent, their _poster girl_ , the daughter of the politicians who’d pushed for this entire campaign, spearheading a movement to take them down…

Felix’s thoughts are cut straight through when a scream rings out through the air. There’s a crash, as a piece of scaffolding holding the power lines unbalances, tumbling down towards the crowd.

Then it changes direction in midair, soaring away and slamming instead into the broken remains of the stage.

There’s a boy standing there, the very first Millennial Felix saw today, the one with the white ivy Mark up his neck. His hands are outstretched, as though pushing something, and there’s a stunned look on his face, like he couldn’t believe he’d just done that.

The metal beams on the stage groan threateningly under the pressure, made worse due to the flames now consuming everything in its path, spreading dangerously quick towards the crowd on the other side.

A girl sprints out from the sea of people, face panicked, the black band on her wrist standing out as her hands making a flowing motion, and water from one of the carnival games arcs into the sky in a beautiful rainbow, before crashing into the trail of fire licking its way up the curtains of the stage, extinguishing the flames into a thick, hissing smoke.

“ _Chaewon-unnie_!” Her friend pulls her arm, looking terrified. “You _know_ you’re not supposed to use your Enhancement!”

More explosions are going off, seemingly random, in a radius around them. Whatever’s doing this aren’t _bombs_ , it’s a _person_. There’s a sudden movement in the crowd ahead, a raised shout, and Felix looks over just as a Defender swoops by, shadowed figures following closely.

 _TY88_ dashes forward through the air, shadows crashing down onto a boy in the crowd.

Felix gasps, watching the kid get thrown to the ground from the force of it. He’s wearing an oversized white sweater and black jeans, like any other boy at the carnival, now slashed and bloody.

Then his hands start to pulse red.

The Defender corkscrews down again, but the boy raises his fist, and _TY_ veers off, arcing back up into the sky. _He can’t risk an explosion from this kid now, not while everyone’s here._

“Stay away from the perpetrator!” _JH97_ soars above them, and Felix finds himself stumbling backwards with the rest of the crowd, moving away.

The boy stands shakily, hands trembling. He has a clear, open face, with large eyes and a face shape that would remind Felix of a puppy, if not for the sunken, deadened look that’s clawed its way on.

“My name is Jeno,” he says, loud and clear enough for everyone to hear. Blood ebbs down the side of his head as he speaks. “I am a Millennial.”

“Keep moving!” _TY88_ orders. Felix stays rooted to the ground, though, barely able to feel Minho trying to pull him along. And he’s not the only one.

“Why do you let them do this?” Jeno’s voice raises, rasping with exertion. He has this manner of looking at each person watching in turn, like he’s speaking directly to them, knocking down the doors to your soul. When his eyes land on Felix, the blonde shivers. “Put you on boards like zoo animals on display? Shackle away your identity and your freedom with that band on your wrist?”

There’s a Millennial standing some distance away from Felix, with a sweet, boyish face, and eyes that look like they could be full of mischief, but are now full of worry. He has one hand clasped over the Tracker on his wrist, watching Jeno with a curious intensity.

“ _GO_!” The Defender shouts to the crowd, rising higher into the air. He doesn’t want to provoke an explosion by attacking the Millennial, Felix realises. Minho tugs hard with a hissed _Felix, come on_ , and Felix stumbles along behind him, still unable to take his eyes off the scene.

Jeno raises his left hand, the veins of his arm harsh in the poor light, bringing attention to the white band of untanned skin around his wrist. “You think it’ll ever stop? You think they’ll ever willingly let you walk free?”

There are people staring, Felix realises, either standing in place or being reluctantly dragged along. Millennials, just standing and staring. He’s nearing the other Millennial, now, the one with the mischievous eyes, and he can see another boy, tugging fruitlessly on his arm.

“ _Jaemin-hyung_ ,” the boy is whispering, panic colouring his voice. “Let’s go, _please_ -…”

“Freedom,” Jeno says the word like it’s poison. “Will _always_ come at a cost.”

The air shifts. Another two Defenders drop to the ground lithely, visors trained on the boy in front of them, now given a wide berth by the crowd – _J-1_ and _SP13_. They’re not doing anything, just watching, like they’re waiting for orders.

Then, everything happens at once. _TY88_ dives down, killer shadows dashing for the boy, only to have to veer forcefully out of the way when the air explodes in front of him. Then, in that moment of distraction, a golden spear from _J-1_ soars through the air, dodged narrowly by the Millennial.

With a _crack_ , then, the Defender shifts, and suddenly, where _SP13_ once was, Jeno is thrown in his place, stumbling and unable to dodge the second spear, which embeds itself in the Millennial’s leg.

 _J-1_ clenches his fist, and the spear bursts into light, making the Millennial buckle down onto one knee. _Paralysis_.

Before he can aim another explosive at the Defender, though, he’s sucked back into space, replaced by the form of _SP13_ , and reappearing in the air, where the other Defender had been just a split second ago.

A gasp rises from the crowd as the Millennial plummets to the ground.

The gasp spikes into a scream when someone bursts from the crowd, sprinting with a superhuman speed to break Jeno’s fall messily, pulling him into a standing position with a strange familiarity.

“ _Jaemin hyung!_ ” the boy Felix had seen in the crowd just now bursts out, fear peaking into a full-blown panic. “ _No!_ ”

Then Jeno raises something, something small and black and cruelly sharp, and all but plunges it into the wrist of the other boy, _Na Jaemin_ , Felix remembers from the info boards he’d seen just now.

The Tracker comes off like a paper wristband.

The Defenders back off and circle around, movements momentarily disorganised, like they’re not quite sure what to do.

“Reclaim your freedom today!” Jeno shouts, and Jaemin seems to stare, in a daze, as the Tracker drops to the ground, useless and broken.

There’s a flurry of confusion, of people trying to escape and people trying to see what’s going on, until a hole literally opens up in the air above the two boys, and one more boy drops to the ground beside them – there’s a hint of recognition in their eyes, and Felix wonders if they all know each other.

His Tracker is forcefully removed in the same way, and Felix hurries, swept along in Minho’s stride, feeling a stab of uncertainty as he wonders if more will join them. He doesn’t have long to wonder, though, because a figure shoots out of the air towards them, dropping heavily to the ground in the middle of the group.

Four of them, now. This one already doesn’t have a Tracker – he must’ve been with Jeno even before this. Thirty seconds, and their numbers doubled. And somehow, Felix gets the feeling that this is only the start.

He sees Jeno look at him as the boy sends one more sweeping look into the crowd, and the corners of his lips tilt upwards, like he’s smirking at Felix. That, or at the Defenders, because he’s said his piece, made his move, and they’re still scrambling to make theirs.

The four step closer together, into some sort of invisible boundary they all know by heart, and another hole opens beneath their feet, and they disappear to safety, leaving nothing but an empty field and a sea of confusion.

*

“You said,” a voice, wrecked with emotion, echoes out through the darkened warehouse they’re at, illuminated only by the fire burning in front of the four boys. Haechan pauses his speech to turn around.

“You _promised_ ,” a boy advances right up to Jeno, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. Jaemin gets up, but Renjun shakes his head lazily, all too familiar with this by now. “You  _lied_ about what that button would do, how could you, how could you  _do_ that-…”

Jeno shoves Seungmin to the ground, getting up. The fire casts his shadow across the floor, long and flickering. 

“So what if I did?” He asks. There’s a chilling sincerity in the way he speaks, like he honestly couldn’t care less. 

“They _took_  Xiyeon!” There are tears in the corners of Seungmin’s eyes. “They’re going to pin the whole thing on her! What if they want to lock her up forever? Give her capital punishment?” 

“Collateral damage,” Jeno leans forward. “You really want to get her out of there? Go on, own up. Tell the whole world you were the one who made her do it.”

“First of all,” Seungmin snaps, getting to his feet. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the other three standing as well, silently watching the exchange. “Don’t you dare push this on me, _you_ were the one who told me it was part of the plan. And you _know_ why I can’t go public.”

“Right,” Jeno’s eyes flash. “Because you’re _scared_. Just like Jihoon.”

“Because our _families_ could never take it! Jihoon’s mom is fighting cancer, for fuck’s sake, Jeno!” Seungmin shouts. “And what the hell were you thinking, today? You want to get a message out there by showing them Millennials are _exactly_ what they think - dangerous and ruthless?”

“If that’s what it takes to get the Trackers off? By all means.”

“By hurting people? Even Millennials?” Seungmin gestures to all of them, taking a step forward. “Xiyeon would’ve _died_ if it weren’t for that Defender! She’s one of _us_ , how could you-…”

“One of _you_!” Jeno shoves Seungmin onto the ground again, harder this time, his palms starting to glow red. Behind him, Haechan looks up warily, like he’s expecting something to fall from the sky. “ _Privileged_!” Jeno spits the word out. “You were never locked up, never even spent a day with the Tracker on your wrist. Just ask your _boyfriend_ or his cousin, Kim Seungmin, what was it like being strapped down and shot full of chemicals day in and out after the others were all set free, just to fuel some research for the government’s precious _Defenders_? Your slate is fucking sparkling clean, and you think you can say anything on what it means to be one of us?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin hisses, disgusted. “Hyunjin and Yeji went through all that too. But it didn’t make them monsters, Lee Jeno,” he looks the other boy dead in the eye. “That part’s all on _you_.”

Haechan darts forward, just as Jeno raises his fist, glowing red. “ _Jeno_ -...!”

He pulls him out often the way, just in time to avoid the cloud of black smoke that materialises, and the heel that would’ve sunken itself in the back of Jeno’s head had he not moved a split second ago.

Jaemin’s the one to act first, dashing forward to physically tear Yeji out of the air, and would’ve been successful had she not disappeared immediately, reappearing behind him to shove him to the ground, redirecting her entire weight onto his back.

Renjun opens a hand, then, making them both fall through the dark hole that opens in the ground, before drawing his fist back, sinking it straight into Yeji’s stomach as she falls through the portal that appears in the air above them.

A shield, the colour of ghost grey, bursts through the space, then, slamming into Renjun, and the other three whip around. Clearly, they’d been expecting this.

Jaemin takes a step forward, about to dash straight for the boy approaching them from the other door.

“ _Stop._ ”

The four freeze, the only sounds permeating the air being the crackle of the fire and their breathing, harsh in the cold air.

“ _Turn around_ ,” Seungmin wipes the trickle of blood away from the corner of his lips, where Jeno’d hit him just now. There’s no way to describe the way his voice sounds now, like the chorus of a thousand choirs, a stiff breeze through a hot field of flowers, or a thunderstorm in summer. They follow his instructions smoothly, expressions blank. “ _Sit down._ ”

Hyunjin rounds the four calmly, leaning over to help Yeji back on her feet – it’s only then that Seungmin releases them, as evidenced by the messy slump of movement on their parts.

“Your fuckups never cease to amaze, Jeno,” Hyunjin says. In the darkness, his outline seems to fade and sharpen in wisps.

Jaemin lets out a short breath of laughter, but his gaze is wavering. “If you guys were going to hurt us, he’d have done it long ago,” he jerks his chin in Seungmin’s direction.

“He might have qualms about braining you into the fucking floor, Jaemin, but unfortunately for you, that’s not a sentiment we share,” Hyunjin doesn’t bother turning to look in his direction, face turned to Jeno. “Congratulations. You said your piece, got your dream team back together, and ruined our hopes of ever living like any other member of society again.”

“Not bad for a day’s work,” Renjun smiles drily.

“Try a few years, maybe,” Hyunjin replies flatly. “We’re done. Don’t come looking for us again.”

“Easy to say for yourselves,” Jeno says, unfazed. “Not so much for him, don’t you think? He did a great job out there today,” the tone of his voice makes Seungmin flinch. “Might be worth the trouble for us.”

Hyunjin takes Seungmin’s hand, before Yeji grabs them both.

“Trust me,” he replies, voice ebbing with a dark, burning venom for the first time that entire conversation. “It won’t.”

The three vanish in a cloud of grey and black smoke.

*

The back of the truck is dark, the rumbling along the midnight road a comforting, constant sound.

It’s almost fifteen whole minutes before Seungmin feels Hyunjin dare to scoot up next to him, where he’s curled up beside a crate, staring out of a crack through the doors of the truck they’re in.

“Hey,” the older boy whispers. A distance away, Yeji leans into a bundle of potato sacks, deliberately facing away.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin continues, when Seungmin doesn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t your fault. I chose to help them,” the other boy replies quietly. “I let it happen.”

“He’s messed up, Seungmin, this _wasn’t_ on you, in any way.”

“I wasn’t sure when he told me about the button,” the younger boy says, still staring out of the truck. “I could’ve forced him to tell me the truth. But I didn’t. Now, Xiyeon’s paying for it. We’re all going to pay for it.”

“Like you said,” Hyunjin takes his hand, gently first, holding it tight when he doesn’t pull away. “The Enhancements didn’t make us monsters. That was something Jeno chose to become.”

Seungmin lets out a dry, breathy laugh, turning to face Hyunjin. “Four of them, now. I don’t know why Haechan didn’t stop him.”

“Jeno’s all he has,” Hyunjin shrugs. He seems relieved, now, leaning in closer. “Even while Renjun and Jaemin were with them back in Sector 1, before they got released with the rest, Haechan could never leave him behind.”

“They’re all going to die together, then,” Seungmin says flatly, and Hyunjin snorts. They wait, in a comfortable silence, for a while, before the younger Millennial places his hand over Hyunjin’s, now curled around his waist.

“We’re going to look for him, now?” He murmurs, looking at Hyunjin. “The Millennial?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Hyunjin says immediately. “It’s just – the Charm’s a surefire way of tying him down, but we-…we can figure something out, we could-…”

“No, Jinnie,” Seungmin almost rolls his eyes, sighing. “I’m _fine_ , just,” he swallows, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Today was a bad day. But I promised to help you. We’re going to find him. Any plans?”

“Are you guys done?” There’s a puff of black smoke beside Hyunjin, and Yeji appears, looking none too happy. “Your makeup sessions are getting longer.”

“You know, Yeji, I hope you get a boyfriend soon, because I can’t wait to annoy you too,” her cousin retorts.

“I’ve been in contact with Raesung, he says congratulations on today by the way,” Yeji reports, expertly ignoring Hyunjin. “I said we told Jeno to go fuck himself just now, and he says we’re welcome to crash with the Silver Boys anytime. Having Jihoon and his tech wizard skills would be useful in tracking down the Millennial, but…too soon?” She smiles ruefully.

“It’d-…” Seungmin fidgets, looking at the floor. “It’d be nice if we could just be…by ourselves, for now.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, rubbing a hand in his eyes, sighing. “We’ll just get on each other’s nerves if we’re together.”

“Good call,” Yeji grimaces. “Speaking of getting on each other’s nerves, I heard stuff, by the way, from Jisu.”

“Lia?”

“Julia, whichever name you want to use,” Yeji shrugs – the other two don’t comment, but they know how much she actually misses the girls. “She says things aren’t doing too good right now. I have no idea how she manages to stay in contact with almost every single Millennial, but she’s been listening in, and the atmosphere’s been getting pretty tense with the others.”

“The other Registered Millennials?” 

“What Jeno said spread a lot since this afternoon. No one’s really sure who’s on which side anymore. She says there’s about three camps now, the ones who think he might be onto something, the ones who think he’s insane, and the ones who just don’t want any trouble.” 

“Which side are we on?” Seungmin raises a brow.

“Honestly?” Yeji deflates. “Would it be wrong to say a little of all three? Jeno’s a nutjob, but if anyone tried to lock me back up at the Institution, I might just start a riot myself. On the other hand, honestly, I just want to own a flower shop and live the rest of my days with lots of cats.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hyunjin comments dispiritedly.

The girl sighs. “You’d think that there being so few of us left would make it easier to get along,” she mumbles, before shuffling away to put a call through to Raesung.

“What about you?” Seungmin looks at Hyunjin, quieter this time, now that Yeji’s gone, and the other boy lets out a soft chuckle.

“You know there’s only one thing I want.”

“And after that?”

“You say that like we’ll even be able to-…”

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin repeats, looking him in the eye. “After that?”

Hyunjin goes quiet for a while, like he’s honestly considering it, for the first time.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he confesses, before looking up at the other boy. “I just know I want to spend it with you.”

“Be serious,” the younger boy chastises, with an exasperated chuckle.

“I am serious,” Hyunjin says. He says it with the certainty one would use to affirm the sky is blue, or the Earth is solid where they stand. “I could,” he stares out the back of the truck for a while, at the night sky pouring onto the darkened ground, rumbling off into the distance from under their feet. “I could get a job somewhere. Just enough for me and him to get by. And to contribute to Yeji’s flower shop cause,” he smiles hopefully. “And if-…if you’re okay with it. We could still see each other?”

Seungmin stares at the boy in front of him, who’s been locked up in a glorified jail cell since he was ten, whose only concept of functional adult relationships comes from the limited selection of old books and movies permitted at the Institution, who probably has no idea how things like jobs and living expenses and housing work, asking Seungmin if they’d still be together after fulfilling his one simple, insurmountable wish.

“Minnie?” Hyunjin says, a little uncertainly, after the silence stretches a moment too long.

“Yeah,” Seungmin breathes out, forcing a smile. “We could.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h a h a get it,,, he said DREAM team,,, 
> 
> (im gg to bed) 
> 
> school has been nuts! and i got stuck at three separate parts over the course of this chapter but it's finally done sobs. so things are going to be moving a lot faster after this (there isn't nearly enough changlix yet smh) and big stuff with Plot will be happening, please look out for that ;u;
> 
> also, as mentioned last chapter, i also posted a skz spy au!! if,, you guys are interested,, it [here ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17682938) ;u; if you noticed also, i made a new pseud to put all my skz fics under to prevent confusion, i love woojin and woojin loves chicken and chicken loves beer so welcome: chimaekjin
> 
> the changlix and woochan moments in recent skz content (felix being all smug and proprietary about changbin in skz talker plus woochan handholding!! and minsung spooning y e s) give me life ;u; pls pls yell with me about cute skz stuff on twitter @symmetrophobic, more skz mutuals would be cool beans ;u;
> 
> comments and kudos will be much appreciated ;u; lmk what you guys think/predict!! hope everyone has a great day!!


	11. 010.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fear crushes you, changbin realises, but guilt eats at you like acid, inside out, and saves your soul for last.

The first thing Changbin does upon reaching the infirmary is to pull off his helmet and take a deep breath of sterile, cool air.

He doesn’t know why, but the smell of this place always calms him down. Getting healed up means you made it, you survived the horrors of today, _congratulations_ , you get to face tomorrow. Maybe it was a matter of association, or something, with the feelings, or the people here.

 _(Definitely the people_ , Changbin would snicker with Jisung on their better days. This isn’t one of them.)

Chan’s already there when they walk in, sitting on an examination table, narrating something into a recording device, staring out the window on the other side. He always does this after a particularly harrowing assignment, to try and get down all the details before he forgets them.

He ends the recording a few sentences after they walk in, before turning to face them, and Changbin does his best not to flinch at the blood trickling down from his hairline, or the bruising starting to show on the side of his face, or the finger-length piece of shrapnel protruding from his shoulder.

“Injuries?” He asks, like he’s not a walking morgue himself.

“Just a couple of cuts and bruises for both of us,” Changbin reports reluctantly. “The flying one, Haechan, he led us on a pretty wild chase, but we managed to get rid of all the other bombs.”

“What about you, hyung?” Jisung asks worriedly, walking up to take a seat on the bench beside him. All three of them got pretty beaten up today, thanks to the explosives – nothing their Rejuvenation Enhancement and a little boost can’t fix, though.

“It’ll be fine,” Chan says absent-mindedly, deep in thought, like he didn’t just get impaled trying to stop an explosion from killing twenty-four people.

“What’s on your mind, hyung?” Changbin gets on the examination bench opposite Chan, setting his helmet aside.

“We’ll talk about it later. After we’re healed up,” Chan seems to wake up from his reverie, then, offering an encouraging smile. “You threw some good spears today, Sungie. And that was excellent positioning with Changbin afterwards. Those training sets really paid off.”

Jisung puffs up with pride, before nudging Chan’s good side cheekily. “Yeah, we totally have plans to re-debut as a duo.”

“That’s great,” the leader grimaces, clutching his side. “I like the sound of retirement, don’t think I’ll last through another bomb.”

“There won’t be another bomb,” Changbin mumbles. “We’re going to figure things out by then,” he frowns, looking up. “It’s going to be okay.”

“And that, Changbin, is exactly the kind of spirit we need around here,” the door opens, then, accompanied by a rush of cool air, and Changbin immediately feels like something impossibly heavy’s been taken off his shoulders, turning around with a smile.

He’s heard about classical conditioning, before, how something as innocuous and neutral as the ring of a bell could invoke the most involuntary of reactions. If it’s all it’s cracked up to be, then, Changbin thinks, it’d explain why it’s just impossible to be preoccupied by any sort of negative emotion around Kim Woojin.

Strictly speaking, the healing only starts once he puts his hands on the injury zone and focuses, but secretly, Changbin thinks it begins all the way from when he walks into the room, calming grey and sky blue uniform and all, talking about anything from the weather to something delicious he saw on a TV advertisement yesterday. In that moment, it’s like the terrors pressed up against the windows to their soul fade away temporarily. There was just this sense of purpose, of serenity, about him, that made you believe, for a moment, the world was worth saving.

“Anything serious?” Woojin asks, though Changbin’s sure he already knows, with the equipment he’s grabbing, and the cart he’s pulling over. “I see you made a new friend, Chan,” he nods to the 7-inch piece of metal currently driven into the other man’s shoulder, and Jisung laughs.

From across the space, Changbin sees Chan smile.

People get extremely nervous around those they particularly like, Changbin had realised. Jisung used to turn into an absolute mess around Minho, and Changbin will admit he’s definitely been flustered around Felix before (though who _wouldn’t_? It’s not _his_ fault). But with Chan, (as it was with many other things), it was the opposite.

Chan spent his life in a permanent stasis of _tense_. Work was stressful, and Changbin wasn’t sure if Chan ever stopped working – even at school, or during dinner, he was always thinking about their job.

But around Woojin, he just seemed to relax. His dimples would come out when he laughed, his eyes would get brighter, and he talked more about inconsequential things like fried chicken hotspots and his favourite song artists without realising it. It was a wonderful thing to watch.

“Let me guess,” the Healer is saying, now. He’s not in his usual uniform today, and has on a pair of blue rubber gloves, a gleaming titanium medi-cart at his side. “You got bitten, by a vampire with,” Changbin stares at the bloody piece of metal that Woojin drops into a basin of water on the cart. “Giant metal teeth.”

“On the shoulder,” Chan reminds him.

“Strategic spot,” Woojin’s removing even more metal fragments – that bomb really did a number on Chan, even with the shield. “Tell me if you start craving minerals, I’ll probably have to write it down on my report.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Chan assures the medic.

“Please hold still, just trying to close up the gaping hole in your superior thoracic artery,” Woojin leans over, and Changbin sees Chan wince, as his shoulder starts to glow blue with the Healer’s touch.

It takes barely a minute for Woojin to get everything else done. He presses a cold towel to Chan’s forehead after, sponging away dried blood and grime – he does this for all of them, though it’s not healing any physical injuries, per se. Changbin used to wonder why, until SKZ got a stand-in Healer one day who didn’t do the same, and he’d felt oddly incomplete after they left, despite the fact that he was, in a technical sense, completely healed.

Now, though, as Woojin steps away, leaving SKZ’s leader looking brand new, Changbin’s finally able to put into words why being around Woojin is so pleasant – he makes them feel _human_ again.

“Jisung, you’re next,” the Healer takes off his gloves, sanitising his hands before grabbing a new pair, and Jisung scoots over on the examination table.

“Where were you today, hyung?” The younger boy pipes up, as Woojin inspects him.

“They called the Healers down to the incident site,” the medic says absently, healing up a nasty gash on Jisung’s leg.

They did that sometimes, for serious accidents – send the Healers in, disguised as paramedics, to patch people up just enough before they got sent to the hospital. Changbin doesn’t know how many lives they’ve saved just by doing this, and no one even knew. It’d cause too many problems, too many legal issues they’d have to settle. That explained Woojin’s uniform change today, then.

“They need some major uniform upgrades, by the way,” Woojin stretches an arm out, wrinkling his nose at the loose dark blue and orange material. “These sleeves are so troublesome. Plus, I feel like a mouldy orange.”

“A handsome mouldy orange,” Jisung assures him. Woojin flicks his arm with a towel.

“Notice anything weird from the ground?” Chan asks, as the Healer finishes up with Jisung, and moves on to Changbin.

There’s a silence, for a while – Chan only asks Woojin’s opinion on work-related things when he’s desperate, preferring to leave it out of the conversation otherwise. The Healer probably knows that, which is why he’s taking a while to respond.

“People are scared,” he says eventually, not bothering to elaborate. “Two Millennial attacks in the span of a few weeks – they think it’s going to happen again.”

“What do _you_ think, hyung?” Jisung urges, and Woojin remains quiet for a moment, focusing on a nasty bruise on Changbin’s arm.

From the other side of the room, Changbin sees Chan pretending not to watch him.

For a moment, Changbin almost wants to interrupt – they _know_ what Woojin thinks. They know he’d spent a greater part of his teenage years volunteering with the Institution, devoting his attention to planning weekend programmes for the kids, before his medical degree got in the way.

He had very specific views about the Millennials that he kept very quiet. But it was difficult for people to keep quiet at a time like this.

“I think something’s not right,” Woojin finally says, finishing up with Changbin’s bruise. The younger boy watches his expression carefully, but his face is blank, hands busy. “It’s too…straightforward.”

“What do you mean by that, hyung?” Changbin asks, then, looking directly at Woojin. The other man pauses, looking away, seeming to think for a moment.

“I think,” he says quietly, carefully, glancing at Chan. “Someone is trying to start a war.”

 _What kind of war_ , Changbin wants to ask, except they’re interrupted in that moment by the door opening.

The ward jerks into a silence, immediately, and Changbin’s heart thuds traitorously in his chest.

“Hyung. They want us at the hospital. Just in case,” It’s Jungwoo – NCT’s Healer, which means the rest of them aren’t far behind. His eyes dart around cautiously as he speaks. “Some important guests got injured today.”

“Ah,” Woojin pulls off his gloves, trashing them and throwing the trio one last glance as he moves out, and Changbin hopes that means the conversation isn’t over. “Remember not to overexert yourselves until the Revujenation kicks in. Chan, I’ll be back to inspect your arm again tonight.”

He leaves with the other Healer, discussing things in low tones, and Changbin inwardly winces, knowing what’s coming next – Taeyong walks in, a used bandage in his hand and apathy practically steaming off his face, the other two members following right behind him. Immediately, like with the previous time, the mood in the room plummets, and Changbin feels a rush of anxiety and annoyance at the situation.

“All Healed up?” The other leader balls up the bandage, soaked with blood, before throwing it into the bin, where it lands with a solid _thunk_. “Let’s get this over with.”

Suddenly, Changbin regrets waiting to discuss the events of today with Chan and Jisung. They need a story to stick to – but then again, maybe that’s why Taeyong wants to have this discussion so early.

“Should we take this to the board room?” Chan asks warily, then. He’s probably thinking the same thing Changbin is.

“Don’t bother. We’ve got a lot to cover,” Taeyong pulls the holograph cube out of his bag, and Jaehyun unlocks it as he’d done during the first meeting. The visual projected above the cube is a news report.

The headline running above reads _MILLENNIAL THREAT: 36 INJURED IN PLANNED ATTACK_

The articles are plastered with comments and pictures from today, witness interviews and snapshots of social media posts, and they don’t look very happy.

“Strong wording there,” Changbin observes, tight-lipped.

“Well it was a _strong_ impression Xiyeon gave, blowing up half the carnival as the face of the MSR,” Taeyong says sardonically, pinching the screen to zoom out on a bunch of similarly-titled articles. “Then the reappearance of Jeno and Haechan, and the way those other Millennials joined him? How do you think people are supposed to feel?”

“Is it true?” Jisung says, in a small voice. One of the articles floats idly on the screen, _MSR LOSES 1200 REGULAR DONORS IN SIX HOURS: FUTURE UNCERTAIN._ “They were experimenting on Millennials in the Institution?”

Behind Taeyong, Mark turns to the window, very conspicuously rolling his eyes into a potted plant, and Changbin resists the urge to put his head through the plaster wall.

NCT’s leader seems to share the same sentiment, only put across in a more tactful way. “That’s not the concern right now. People are in the hospital, and-…”

“They need to know,” Chan cuts in quietly, and both Jisung and Changbin jerk their heads towards him instantaneously, momentarily disoriented. Was this something Chan knew, that he never told them about?

Taeyong’s visibly impatient at this point, but he snorts, breath light with contempt, before jerking his chin towards them. “Tell them, then.”

There’s a weighted silence in the airy room for a while, before SKZ’s leader sighs wearily, turning to face the other two members of his Unit. “This isn’t something we’re supposed to know, or talk about, but this situation doesn’t really give us a choice,” he’s looking at Jisung, Changbin realises, and he follows suit almost involuntarily. The youngest boy’s eyes are wide with shock, and just the slightest hint of well-hidden betrayal. “ _Yes_ , there was experimentation done on Millennials with criminal history. But no, it wasn’t done by the MSR. As far as we know, this is the first they’re hearing of it, too.”

“Isn’t the MSR responsible for the Millennials that were still Institutionalised after the Trackers were released?” Changbin demands, gesturing. “How could they overlook something like this?”

“This is exactly why it’s impossible for the MSR to defend themselves right now,” Chan holds up a hand, and Changbin falls silent, bursting with a thousand protests. _What the hell? So the MSR isn’t responsible for the experimentation, after all_? “It’s a really, really complicated administrative matter, but the MSR only oversees Millennials outside of the Institution. Those that are Registered, Tracked, and not locked up. The rest,” he eyes the two of them pointedly. “Are government property. The MSR couldn’t touch them even if they wanted to.”

Changbin freezes up, as the weight of that revelation sinks in. _That’s why he’d wanted Felix to get Registered. He wanted to protect him._

“So if the MSR wasn’t responsible for the experimentation then, who was?” Jisung asks quietly.

“Who do you think? How do you think they got our Enhancements this perfect?” Taeyong’s the one to say it, now. The silence in the room gets even more deafening, and suddenly, Changbin really wants to just hug Jisung, or hold the younger boy’s hand. “The Defenders R&D labs headed the operation.”

Changbin’d been feeling breathless before, but now he just feels a little sick. “Why’d we never know about this?”

“We didn’t know about it till recently either, a year ago,” _an entire year_. “The experimentation was finished more than three years ago,” Chan explains steadily. “Before any of us were even conscripted into the Defenders.”

Changbin glances over at Jisung again, watching his reaction, but he feels Mark’s eyes on him, and quickly looks away, not wanting to draw any attention to the younger boy. In his chest, his heart is hammering.

_We didn’t know, but that doesn’t make us blameless. Our Enhancements were a product of lab experiments done on Millennials, on kids._

_The Defenders organisation would never let this go public – they’d just let the MSR take the fall. At the end of the day, it’s just the Millennials suffering, again. They’d spent so long trying to get the MSR up and running, trying to get everyone to support them, Xiyeon’s parents-…_

Xiyeon.

“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense, then,” Changbin frowns, running through everything in his head, piecing things together like bits of a puzzle. “Xiyeon should know better than anyone else that the MSR wasn’t responsible for the experiments – her parents _pushed_ for the whole thing. Why’d she…?”

Chan stands again, then, taking out a holographic cube of his own – the device he’d been recording with just now. “I thought about that too, after I rescued her,” there’s a distant tone in his voice, now, like he’s still putting everything together. “I followed up after I handed her to the paramedics,” he continues, opening the screen to flick through a series of files on the cube.

“Wait, you did _what?_ ” Taeyong snaps, straightening up. “You _know_ we’re not supposed to do that. Our jurisdiction is at the incident site only.”

Jaehyun leans over, subtly nudging the leader, but either way, Chan doesn’t reply, just hitting an audio recording file. The sound expands to fill the room, with crystal quality thanks to the state-of-the-art recording equipment.

“…- _want to see my parents,_ ” Xiyeon’s voice is wavering but firm, like she’s trying her best not to cry.

 _“Junghyun-ah_ ,” Another female voice, strikingly similar in tone to the one Changbin had heard in the recording played at the carnival. It makes him shiver. “ _Do you understand what you just did?”_

“ _I don’t remember anything – I just remember the piano,”_ the girl’s breath hitches, going a little higher. “ _Then – then I woke up here_.”

“ _You hurt lots of people, Junghyun-ah. Pushed a button, set off explosives and injured 36 of them – some of them are Millennials, just like you. They could’ve died if the Defenders hadn’t saved them.”_

 _“If I did that, don’t you think I’d remember it_?” Xiyeon sounds a little more on edge, now, and she sniffs. _“Can-…can I see my mom? Please?”_

“ _Your parents are hurt too, Junghyun-ah. They don’t understand why you did it. Were you unhappy with them? Maybe we’ll let them in, and you can explain to them why you did it?”_

 _“I didn’t do it,”_ from her voice alone, Changbin can feel the way she’s shaking her head vehemently, denying the claim. She sniffs again, hiccupping once. “ _Please tell them I didn’t do it. I didn’t-…_ ”

The recording cuts, and Chan glances around the room.

“Taking everything into account, the way she didn’t remember the earlier events-…”

“ _Claimed_ she didn’t remember,” Mark corrects. Chan ignores him.

“Didn’t remember, and the spaced-out expression she was wearing before the explosion, during the recording playback on stage,” Chan ticks them off on his fingers. “It sounds a lot like the effects of a Charm, don’t you think?”

Changbin stiffens, but Taeyong scoffs.

“Charms are strictly regulated, there’s a reason only one of us has it. And even if he weren’t all the way over in Gwangju, he’s not stupid enough to do something like this,” he says darkly.

“Unless it’s someone unlicensed who has it,” Changbin thinks out loud, brain whirring from all this new information.

“You’re implying a Millennial Charmed her?” Jaehyun raises a brow, deep in thought. “I suppose, if they wanted to bring down the MSR, having their spokesperson do it would be the way to go,”

“That, _or_ ,” Chan interjects, tapping another file on the cube, and a bunch of documents spring up. Immediately, all three of the other Defenders seem to jerk into motion, alarming Changbin, and Taeyong makes a swift sliding motion to close the documents.

“Are you _crazy_?’ He hisses, taking what looks like a puffed silicon disc from his pocket, dropping it onto the floor, where it starts to glow orange. It’s a scrambler, Changbin realises, effectively blocking any transmission devices that might be hidden in this room. “Where’d you get those documents from?”

“I debugged the room before the rest of you got here,” Chan says flatly, reopening them. “And regarding these? I got a tip-off about stolen Enhancements. I went to do some background digging, and it’s true – there was a break-in at the R&D labs a few weeks ago. No information on what was stolen, but putting two and two together today, I’d say it might be a Charm.”

“You know how much trouble you could get into with the higher-ups for implying something like that?” Taeyong grits out. “They want a report and a plan of action from _today_.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Chan insists, and suddenly (though not for the first time) Changbin feels a rush of pride for his leader. Always Chan, always trying to do what’s right and not what’s easy. “Don’t you think something’s off? Today wasn’t just an attack, it was a _statement_. Someone wanted to get something said, and say it big. And they used Xiyeon, the face of the MSR and the Millennials, to do it.”

“If that’s the case, then we need to find out more about who stole the Enhancements and what Enhancements they were,” Changbin adds, with a tone of finality.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark interrupts, annoyance building in his voice. “At the end of the day, the rogue Millennials are still on the loose, and something needs to be done,”

“Don’t you think-…”

“ _36 people_ are in the hospital right now, Chan,” Taeyong snaps. “That number could double tomorrow if we don’t do something _now_. We need to find out where the rogue Millennials are hiding, flush them out and lock them back up, even if it means not all of them go back in alive.”

Changbin’s eyes widen at the implications of that statement. _He can’t be serious, right?_

“They’re just _kids_ ,” Jisung finally speaks up, staring right at Taeyong.

“Like you?” Mark shoots back. “They’re old enough to know they messed up.”

“Yeah, old enough to be punished,” Changbin interjects. “Not _killed_.”

“No one’s old enough to be _killed_ , Seo Changbin,” Mark snaps, then, getting off the examination table and taking a couple steps forward, and before he even realises what’s going on, Changbin feels Chan holding his arm tightly, pulling him back. “Just ask your leader, how old was his sister when she lost her leg? Was ten old enough for my friend to die of smoke inhalation in his sleep? Was thirty-six old enough for Jaehyun’s mother to die when three apartments collapsed from an explosion?”

“Then stop talking about them like they’re all cold-blooded killers, because they’re _not_!” Jisung shouts back, the strength in his voice surprising even Changbin. “They’re just as confused as we are right now, those that are even considering the idea of following Jeno are just doing it because they’re scared of what the MSR might do to them too. Just give them a fucking break for a second, okay?”

“How do you know that?”

Changbin turns to look at Jaehyun, standing beside Mark across the room, frowning slightly in confusion.

“What?”

“How do you know what they’re thinking?” Taeyong echoes quietly. His arms are folded across his chest, staring at Jisung almost thoughtfully, and it made Changbin shiver – loud, aggressive Taeyong he could handle, but him silent and thinking was a knife you did not want pointed in your direction.

_That’s true…how does Jisung know what they’re up to?_

“I-…it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Jisung splutters. Changbin tries his best not to stare at him too, but even then, he’d be a fool to miss the younger boy’s stutter. _Does he know something we don’t?_

“You said something about the Millennials considering following Jeno,” Taeyong steps forward, the movement glacial, like a tiger circling its paralysed prey. “Which ones? Do you have names?”

“I-…I don’t-…”

“Sunbaenim,” Chan cuts in, voice firm, and Jisung seems to jerk out of a trance. “It’s been a long day. Let’s continue this debrief after we get some rest.”

The silence is suffocating, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Then-…

“Fine,” Taeyong seems to have expected that, but there’s a tone of dismissive frustration in his voice all the same. “Fine,” he repeats. “You want to protect the Millennials?” He brings up a final news article from his holograph cube, moving with a little more violence than necessary, so the headline blares across the screen in big bold letters: _RE-INSTITUTIONALISATION ON THE TABLE?_ “Today it’s just a clickbait headline, tomorrow it could be a government press release,” he walks over, jabbing a finger into Chan’s shoulder and getting the recently-healed spot with amazing accuracy. “Figure out which side you’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay tests are hell and kpop is on fire but i bring this hot mess to the table anyway
> 
> honestly did not expect this chapter to turn out so long, i actually had other parts written and decided to leave them for the next update bc this was already 4k words!! im sorry things are so angsty and overdramatic rn but Exposition needed to happen
> 
> notes:  
> 1) i love woojin. i hope you will love him too!!  
> 2) felix will be back next chapter!!  
> 3) he will find out,,,,Soon, perhaps  
> 4) the story is about half done!! which means THINGS WILL HAPPEN
> 
> LET ME KNOW YOUR THEORIES yay!! comments and kudos will be much appreciated and loved, they give me strength to write :"") hugs tight thank you to everyone who's commented so far, I honestly really appreciate it
> 
> p.s. i noticed many of yall have been asking about jeongin!! jsyk up till this chapter, he's already been mentioned (unnamed) in the story CHEERS
> 
> i love tiny fox boy


	12. 011.

Felix spoons rice into his mouth and chews, the lighthearted trill of Chaeryeong’s words flying over his head.

It’s been a strange, quiet few days back in school. The air is calm, the same way the ocean quietens and recedes before a tsunami. There’s an undercurrent of some…some _thing_ – to call it dissent wouldn’t be right, but it wasn’t quite fear either. Quite a few of them had known Xiyeon personally, after all, and after what she did that day (the videos had gone viral, pounced upon by news outlets and social media alike) no one’s heard a thing from her since.

More than ever now, Felix wishes he could talk to someone about this. Wishes he could just _ask_ the other Millennials what they’re thinking, what they’re doing now. But more than ever now, he _knows_ he can’t tell anyone about this, now that he knows what the MSR’s been doing to the Millennials. Selfishly, he shudders at the thought of what they’d do to _him_ if they discovered what Enhancement he had.

But the general public had a special talent for moving on, business as usual, like nothing was wrong. The government PR reps called it resilience. Felix thought it felt a lot more like ignorance.

“…going through the second assignment tomorrow,” Chaeryeong says, ticking off her fingers. “Then it’s just the lab report from our practical course left. I’m screwed for that one, all my bacteria on the control plate died,” she laments.

“I’ll send you the pictures from my bench,” Ryujin offers blandly, fishing out a chicken slice from the bottom of her soup bowl. “Did your knockouts die? My vector screwed up, I think, my knockout plate was like an Impressionist painting.”

It’s the first time Felix is eating with Chaeryeong and her friends in almost a month, and he’s thankful some of them aren’t here right now. Right now it’s just Ryujin, who hadn’t cared much that he was born in 2000 (but then again, there wasn’t much she cared about to begin with), Sunmin, a cute girl with a baby face who’d engaged Felix in an hour-long conversation about Pokemon during orientation, a couple of others Felix doesn’t recognise and Chaeryeong herself.

He hasn’t heard much from Changbin and the others since the carnival. Surprisingly, Felix doesn’t feel disappointment, just emptiness – he’d been hoping for a text from him, or something, explaining where he’d gone. But it’s mostly been radio silence from them,

Sunmin sighs, then, pale cheeks puffing out as she engages in a death stare match with her phone. Felix looks up questioningly, as Ryujin leans over. “What’s up?”

The girl grips a handful of hair, sighing theatrically loud again. “My mom wants to take me out of school.”

Felix feels an uneasy twist in his gut. A girl on Sunmin’s other side looks around, before dropping her voice. “Because of what happened at the carnival?”

“What else?” Sunmin pouts. “ _Ah_ , I shouldn’t have told my brother Xiyeon studied at my school, how was I supposed to know he’d blab to our mom? Now she thinks the Millennials are going to attack the university.”

“My mom told me she’d flog me if she caught me hanging out with any of them,” another girl makes a face. “No need to tell me, mom, already on it,” she unlocks her phone, continuing offhandedly. “I always knew Xiyeon was a little shady. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to cover up her Mark, you know? Not like she can’t afford the concealer or anything, her parents are loaded.”

Felix thinks of Jisung, and quietly eats his food, wishing he was with them instead of stuck here.

“ _Couldn’t have_ ,” another girl corrects, and the first one laughs. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s _wrong_ for them to be Millennials, or anything – the mutagenesis wasn’t something any of them could control. But it’s basic decency to cover up their Mark. All the Millennials I know do it.”

“And how many is that, exactly, Yehee?” Chaeryeong says drily, raising a brow.

The table breaks into laughter. “Better not let your daddy hear that, Ryeong,” Yehee drops her voice to a whisper. “ _I’m_ scared of my parents finding out there are Millennials in the school, your dad might just go spare.”

Chaeryeong laughs shortly, and Felix senses the bad blood there, but decides not to intrude. He can sense the rest just waiting for him to talk, just _waiting_ for him to say something so they can pounce.

“Oppa,” Yehee starts innocently, and Felix almost flinches. _I guess staying silent wasn’t very useful_. “What do you think? About all this?”

Felix clears his throat, laughing nervously. “I just came from Australia, I don’t think I know enough about this to say anything.”

“That’s what people say when they know they have an unpopular opinion,” Yehee continues informatively, leaning forward. Sunmin, sitting opposite Felix, suddenly finds her porridge very interesting. “You’re born in 2000, oppa, you _must_ know some Millennials,” when this doesn’t get the reaction she’s looking for, she glances away casually. “They’re talking about Re-Institutionalisation, you know.”

 _That_ gets a ripple of movement around the table. After all, most of them had been born just a year after the millennium. They probably remembered seniors walking around in middle school one day and disappearing the next.

“That’s just a clickbait headline,” Chaeryeong looks annoyed. “The MSR-…”

“Is toast. Did you see their statement yesterday? Acting like they had no idea what was going on with the experimentation?” Yehee laughs, and Nameless Girl beside her giggles too. “But either way, it doesn’t matter.”

 _Doesn’t matter_? Felix’s eyes dart up, fist tightening. _Kids were experimented on, cut open and pumped full of chemicals, and you say it doesn’t matter?_

“With or without the expose, the attack proved one thing, didn’t it?” Yehee says, inspecting her nails. “The Tracker’s not enough to control the Millennials. They need something more.”

“So you’re _for_ the Re-Institutionalisation?” Felix finds himself asking before he can stop himself.

The table goes quiet for a moment. He hadn’t meant to sound accusatory, or even defensive, but from the looks around the table, he guesses that’s what they’d heard.

For the skin of a second, Yehee looks surprised. Then she smiles, leaning forward again. “So what if I am?”

Song Yehee is a debate club regular, has been since she was in middle school, and makes a hobby out of studying current affairs and politics in their spare time. She _wants_ him to argue, wants stammering, illiterate little Felix to pick a fight with her, because she knows she can decimate him.

Felix doesn’t say anything for a moment, and is this close to giving up and saying _no, nothing’s wrong,_ when Chaeryeong puts her cutlery down, apparently finished with her food.

“I need some coffee,” she slaps Felix’s arm. “Put your XY chromosome to use, oppa, help me carry the drinks. You guys want anything?”

They’re safely away from the table, queueing for drinks, when Chaeryeong opens her mouth again.

“ _Oppa_ , why’d you pick a fight with her?”

“I didn’t pick a fight,” Felix says wearily. “I just didn’t think she’d be this argumentative.”

“Yehee’s not argumentative, she’s a fucking psycho. We just eat with her because Sunmin’s been friends with her since high school,” Chaeryeong says bluntly. “Why aren’t you eating with Minho and your boy toy, anyway?”

Felix rolls his eyes, unable to hold back a smile – with everything else going to shit, at least Chaeryeong won’t change. “They’re kinda busy now. Exams and stuff, I guess.”

“Are they being good to you?” the younger girl demands, folding her arms across her chest. “They’re not just using you for your immeasurable wealth and cute twink body, are they?”

“ _No,_ Ryeong - _half_ of them are richer than me-…”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Chaeryeong makes a face, which is totally unfair, coming from someone who gets picked up in a chauffeured black Benz every other day. “Birds of a feather, huh. Anyway, good to know you acknowledge.”

“…acknowledge what?” Felix says, raising a brow.

“That he is your boy toy,” she says smugly, before scrunching her face up in deep thought for a second. “A little on the short side, but I’ll let it pass. He can marry you. I expect the dowry by next year.”

“ _Ryeong_ -…”

“Ryeongie!”

Chaeryeong perks up, turning around, and Felix watches the pretty girl ( _all_ of Chaeryeong’s friends are pretty, it’s so unfair) flutter over to the drinks queue. She has sparkling dark eyes and a slender figure, looking dainty in denim shorts and a beige knit sweater that goes down past her fingertips.

“Unnie!” The younger girl brightens palpably, reaching out for a hug. “How was the test just now? Oh, Felix oppa, this is Lia,” she gestures to the girl, who’s smiling at him now. “She’s your age!”

“Hey,” Felix says, hoping he doesn’t come off too awkward, and Lia giggles.

“She lived in Canada for a while, she knows how to speak English,” Chaeryeong adds. They’re at the front of the queue now, and she does a hasty introduction before turning to order the drinks. “Unnie, Felix is from Australia!”

Lia’s expression changes immediately into the one Felix knows all too well, as though welcoming a long lost friend, and she switches to English, reaching out for a mock bro hug. “Nice, we can gossip about Ryeong right in front of her,” she says in English, winking, while Chaeryeong has her back turned. “People like us should stick together.”

“Yeah, we should, actually,” Felix laughs, grabbing her hand and bumping her shoulder.

Then she all but yanks her hand out of his.

Felix’s smile falters as he takes her expression in, her pretty eyes wide with shock. Her smile is gone, and she takes a step back, her hand clutched to her chest, shaking her head a little as though to clear it.

_Was I not supposed to do that? Is that not a thing in Canada? But she held her hand out, I thought-…_

“Sorry?” he says, blinking in confusion, though it comes out more like a question than a statement.

It’s then Chaeryeong turns around, handing him a couple of drinks, about to say something, before glancing questioningly between the two of them.

In a split second, though, everything goes back to normal. Felix sees Lia’s eyes dart to his wrists, then back up, smile decidedly more fixed.

“It was super nice meeting you, Felix,” she says in Korean this time, before waving at Chaeryeong. “I’ll see you guys around!”

Then she disappears into the lunchtime crowd, and Felix takes the drinks numbly, following Chaeryeong back to the table.

“It’s nice to know Lia unnie’s doing well,” Chaeryeong sighs in relief, as they weave through people. “That incident at the carnival really messed a lot of people up.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Felix mumbles, his mind still on Lia’s expression when he’d taken her hand.

“Oh,” Chaeryeong frowns a little, looking confused. “Didn’t you see her wrist?” She stops before they round the corner to get back to their table. “Lia’s a Millennial.”

Felix is absolutely winded, for a second. Then the flecks across his face prickle intensely, and realisation hits him in the gut.

She’s a _Millennial_. She has Enhancements. _She probably felt them stop working the moment she touched me._

Felix’s heart is racing painfully, fear hitting him in waves. _She knows. She knows someone has the power to make Enhancements stop working and she knows I have it. But she won’t tell anyone, right? Chaeryeong seems to trust her a lot, it should be fine, right_?

“…clairvoyant with a little bit of telepathy, but she’s not really sure, I was thinking about my garden one week and she guessed I was thinking about my little sister…oppa?” Chaeryeong leans over, looking concerned when she sees the look on Felix’s face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, I just,” Felix stutters. “I didn’t realise. That’s all.”

“Well, she covers up her Mark, so it’s not that easy to tell,” the girl shrugs. “She’s friends with a ton of Millennials, though, I was just a little scared the incident would affect her, but I’m glad she’s doing okay. Ugh, hang on a second, I gotta look like I want to be here before we get back to the table.”

Felix doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation as they finish up lunch and head for their next lecture, thinking about Lia. _Another Millennial_ …and someone who knew a lot of others. If Chaeryeong trusted her, so could Felix, right? He knew he was just supposed to keep a low profile, but he was dying to talk to another Millennial, someone who _understood_.

But what if she wanted him to come out? Get Registered? _What if she told Chaeryeong_? Felix shudders.

 _Re-Institutionalisation…_ the cowardly thought passes through his mind, that maybe, just for now, he’ll keep quiet.

*

Felix is halfway back to his dorm when he spots a familiar black cap in the sparse gathering of students around the quad.

Instinctively, he wants to wave, but hesitates. Is it too soon? Is there a reason why they aren’t talking? He ducks his head, feeling the misery from lunchtime seep back into his bones. _I really am just a coward, aren’t I_?

Too scared to own up to what he is, too scared to own up about his feelings. _Pathetic_. He ducks his head, walking faster, feeling his cheeks prickle again.

He’s almost at the bus stop by the time he hears someone call his name.

“Felix!”

He jumps, holding his laptop close to his chest and turning. Jitters dance down his spine as Changbin walks right up to him, bag slung over his shoulder, wide smile hesitating at the look on Felix’s face.

“Glad that you’re okay,” the older boy says, eyes darting to the rest of him. There’s a breathless sort of anticipation about him today, seeping off his cool exterior in waves. “The uh, the carnival – you weren’t hurt or anything, right?”

“Yeah,” Felix mumbles. _Ask him. Ask him now, where he went, why he had to go_. “So uhm-…”

“I was wondering,” Changbin blurts out at the same time, before backtracking. “Sorry, what were you-…?”

“No it’s okay, you go first, hyung,” Felix says, fervently wishing there was a hole in the ground for him to crawl into forever.

“Uhm, yeah, okay,” Changbin looks uncharacteristically nervous. “So we were talking about, you know, going to uhm, to try some great chicken places the other time, right?” He raises a worn flyer with an embarrassed grin. “A friend of mine recommended a place. Wanna check it out this weekend, or anything? Like Saturday?”

Felix stares for a moment, unable to really process this. _Is this…a date_?

“Yeah,” he says dumbly, before his cognitive processes kick in to save him from eternal shame. “I’ve got dance prac on Saturday afternoon till five, but I’m free after that!”

“Settled! I’ll come pick you up from your dorm at six?” the older boy’s lips crook upwards. “Dress warmly, okay? Weather’s really going crazy these days.”

“You’re telling me,” Felix grimaces, tugging at the collar of his denim jacket, metal buttons clicking at the movement. “Just when you think it’s getting warmer, the wind blows, and suddenly it’s minus ten degrees.”

“Yeah,” Changbin’s staring at something on his jacket. Felix blinks, as the older boy reaches over, plucking at a metal chain, attached to a tag, hanging casually from one pocket. “What’s-…uh, what’s this?”

“Oh,” Felix pouts at the memory, genuinely upset. “I lost my _SpearB_ dog tag! The chain must’ve broken, or something, one day it was on my bag and the next day it was gone. This is _J-1_ ’s dog tag, it was a present from Minho, I think he’s trying to make a religion out of this.”

“Minho, huh,” Changbin scoffs. He seems to sink into thought for a moment, before swinging his bag around, the same unassuming black one he seems to carry around with him everywhere, digging into a compartment and pulling out a chain. “Take mine.”

“Yours…?” Felix says blankly, until Changbin reaches up, and his heart shoots into his throat as the other boy leans in, cologne filling Felix’s head as he slings the new chain of cool metal around his neck. The younger boy manages to catch a bit of the inscription on the strangely worn-looking tag, _SP13 –_ it looks _different_ , somehow, from the one he had before. The metal feels heavier, and is it just him, or do the inscriptions look different, too?

He doesn’t get to examine it for long, because Changbin tucks the tag under Felix’s neckline, an odd look of self-assured satisfaction on his face. For a moment, all Felix can hear is his own heart, pounding against the innocuous nugget of metal against his chest.  

Then Changbin pulls _J-1_ ’s dog tag off his jacket in one deft movement, regarding it with a comical disgust, before dropping it into a pocket in Felix’s knapsack.

“Minho and Jisung aren’t going to be very happy about this,” Felix mumbles, still a little dazed at the happenings of the past minute, but the way Changbin rolls his eyes makes him smile.

“Trust me, if you had to deal with their kissy face drama for the past two years, there’s a _lot_ you wouldn’t be very happy about either,” the older boy says sarcastically, before nodding towards the stairway. “Are you going to the bus stop?”

“Yeah,” Felix’s legs propel him forward, towards the stop, and his heart does a funny dance in his chest at the way Changbin falls in step right beside him, close enough for their hands to brush, and the heat he feels rises from his face to his ears, probably staining them thoroughly pink.

“I’ll walk with you,” the other boy smiles, and Felix blushes, averting his eyes, feeling like he’s back in high school again, getting shy when the cutest boy in class picks him to be on his team for basketball.

They sit at the bus stop, waiting for the campus shuttle, and Felix lets two buses go by under the pretence of waiting for an emptier one. They sit in the shade, surrounded by students, talking about nothing and everything until Changbin gets a call and has to say goodbye.

Felix is back in his room, showered and burying himself under the covers like a squeamish teenaged girl, by the time he realises he’d forgotten to ask.

But he’s got a whole night with Changbin now. _Five hours to spend with him_ _alone_.

He’s got time.

*

The house is quiet by the time the front door closes.

Kim Seungmin coughs once, twice, huddling up in his comforter, sinking further into his blanket burrito when keys clink against the dinner table, and there’s the rustle of plastic bags being unpacked. The closet beside his bed rattles, then goes quiet.

He knows this routine by heart, almost. There’ll be the sound of shoes being placed back in the cupboard, the rush of water in the kitchen sink and the opening of the fridge door. He counts down the number of seconds left in his head.

Footsteps pad over to his room, then there’s a none-too-polite knock on the door. Seungmin’s heart is racing from the nerves, and he rolls up tighter, hoping it doesn’t show.

The door opens, and the smell of omelette rice fills the room.

“Hey, Minnie,” Kim Woojin walks right in, yawning, looking dead on his feet. He sets a takeaway box on Seungmin’s spick-and-span desk, along with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. “Bought your favourite.”

Seungmin perks up despite himself. “Omelette rice? With sausages?”

Woojin chuckles, settling down on the mattress beside Seungmin, pressing a hand to his forehead. “How’s my little dinosaur feeling?”

“Don’t _call me that_ , hyung,” Seungmin grumbles, face burning. “I’m fine, just feeling a little under the weather. It’s the cold, probably,” he winces as Woojin’s thumb brushes the crown of his head, and immediately regrets it, hoping he hadn’t seen. “Today I almost-…”

“Minnie, what’s this?” his older brother says sharply, pushing up his fringe, where Seungmin knows a bruise is blooming, and the younger boy braces for impact. When Seungmin doesn’t reply for a moment, Woojin plows on. “Who was it? Was it the kids at school again?”

“I’m in _university_ , hyung, there aren’t any _kids at school_ anymore,” Seungmin mumbles. “I uhm, I fell down in the bathroom today. I hit my head on the wall.”

He glances up at his brother, a certified paramedic, training for his doctorate, who’s probably seen and categorised hundreds of different wounds over the course of his job, and offers what he hopes is a winning smile. Woojin sighs.

“Stay here,” the older man leaves the room, and Seungmin groans, slumping against the pillows, already knowing what’s coming before the other man returns, barely a minute later, with a first aid box, turning on the light and making Seungmin hiss.

“Hyung, I’m _fine_ , it’s literally just a couple of bruises-…”

“Where are the other ones?” Woojin says absent-mindedly, snapping open the box without looking. He picks up a tube of some white, glue-y medicine, squeezing out a bit on his ring finger to dab on the spot.

“There aren’t any others,” Seungmin tries. Woojin _looks_ at him. The younger boy holds out for a good five seconds or so, then gives up. “On my back. And my elbow.”

Woojin sighs, dabbing some medicine on the still-bleeding scratch on Seungmin’s elbow, before tearing open a packet of gauze and pressing it down firmly. “One hell of a bathroom fall.”

“I got a few good licks in,” the younger boy shrugs. “The faucet didn’t stand a chance.”

The paramedic laughs, taping the gauze down. He tugs at the blanket. “Back.”

Seungmin grumbles, feeling irrationally panicky as he pushes down the blanket, rolling onto his side, and Woojin lifts the hem of his oversized sweater.

There, pooling beside a streaky, misplaced paint splash of white, is a huge, ugly, yellowing bruise.

The older man sighs.

“Why?” Seungmin mumbles, wishing he could just lower his shirt already. “Not bad enough to break out the glowy blue hands yet?”

“Minnie,” Woojin says steadily, and Seungmin regrets having said anything at all. He averts his eyes, knowing he can’t escape it when the older man taps the pale white mark, curling up Seungmin’s lower back like smoke. “Remember what I said?”

“Capitalism is the root of all evil?”

“The Enhancements are _gifts_ ,” Woojin ignores him. “And we should treat them as such. Which means we use them with care, only when we need to, and always to do good things.”

“I know, I know,” Seungmin mumbles, used to this lecture by now. He tries to worm back into his comforter, hissing in pain when he accidentally rests his weight on his hip.

Woojin frowns, tugging the comforter away, before pressing a hand to the warm skin. Just barely, his eyes glow blue for a split second, and he looks sharply at the younger boy. “Minnie. There’s a _hairline fracture_. On your hip. What happened.”

Seungmin hesitates. “One hell of a bathroom fall?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Well, the cistern and I have always had beef,” Seungmin offers, blinking up at his older brother with a pleading smile.

The older man sighs, giving him a long-suffering look, before glancing up to check that the curtains are closed, and laying his hands on the wound. Seungmin can’t resist watching, still fascinated to this day by the way his skin glows blue, the bruise fading like a watercolour stain being washed out of a piece of cloth until it’s completely gone, the pain disappearing with it, replaced by a refreshing tingle.

The older man exhales once the wound’s healed, one hand braced against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, and Seungmin’s up in an instant.

“Hyung, you okay?” he asks worriedly. “I can get you a glucose sweet, there’s some-…”

“No, it’s fine, just – a lot of people got hurt, today was a bad day,” Woojin waves him off. He doesn’t get up, though, and Seungmin wonders if it’s because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand. “You weren’t at the carnival, were you?”

“Uhm,” Seungmin looks away. “No.”

“It’s getting dangerous out there for Millennials,” Woojin warns, sounding frustrated for the first time tonight as he rubs a knuckle into his temple. Probably the exhaustion getting to him. “The Defenders won’t hesitate just because you’re a child, if they find out what you can do. Be _careful_ , okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Seungmin wriggles off the bed, moving a lot better now that he’s completely healed – the bruise on his hairline and elbow wound feels better, too. He pulls Woojin’s arm over his shoulder. “You should take a shower and go to bed, hyung, it’s been a long day. I’ll do the dishes before Mom gets home.”

“Okay, I get it, you want me out of your room,” Woojin grumbles, but lets himself be led out anyway.

It’s barely a couple of minutes later that Seungmin rushes back into his room, closing the door and listening for the sound of the bathroom door locking. “He’s gone, it’s okay!” he whispers.

Then the closet opens, and two people tumble out, long limbs everywhere.

“That was _horrible_ ,” Yeji groans, pushing Hyunjin’s knee out of her face. “I haven’t been stuck this close to you for so long since we had to share a cot in _kindergarten_.”

“Is your _elbow_ made of metal, or something?” Hyunjin demands, organising himself into an upright sitting position, one hand against his side. “I think you ruptured three organs.”

“ _Guys_ ,” Seungmin hisses, locking his own bedroom door and walking over. “Keep it _down_ , okay?”

“Okay, _little dinosaur_ ,” Hyunjin snorts, and the younger boy scoffs, pushing him away.

“Don’t _ever_ bring that up again,” he says darkly.

“Your brother won’t…won’t turn us in, or anything, if he finds us, right?” Yeji crouches by his side, glancing worriedly over at the door. “He works with the Defenders, doesn’t he?”

“He won’t,” Seungmin takes down his laptop, trying not to gravitate towards the lunchbox on his table. “He still remembers you guys from his volunteer days, before the Institution stopped the tuition classes, you know? He’d probably just give you a really long lecture and make you write a 2-page reflection on how to be a better person for yourself.”

“Still, we should hurry,” Hyunjin kneels down beside Seungmin, watching him type with a dull fascination. They’d had computers back in the Institution, sure, but they weren’t as flat as this, and you couldn’t close them like a book and bring them wherever you wanted. “We have to find the Millennial, and get him alone.”

“We need a situation we can take him out of, where no one will miss him for half an hour or so,” Yeji leans in, keeping her voice down. “Somewhere we can get close to him without it being suspicious. We can’t just spring out of nowhere on him at Yonsei, either, he’d freak out and run before we can lock him down.”

Seungmin’s staring at the multitude of pictures they’ve scavenged from their research so far, eyes drifting to the other boys in the selfies. The Millennial is wearing a matching black shirt, striking a pose with a group of other students in one picture. “He’s in the street jazz crew.”

“You know people there?”

There’s a moment more of silence, until the younger boy’s gaze snags onto the pretty-eyed, dark-haired older boy scattered across a bunch of the pictures, _dance dance_ emblazoned in white across his black shirt in the group shot with the Millennial.

“I’ve seen him before,” Seungmin muses, mouse coming to rest over the picture. “He comes to Seoul U every week with some of the seniors for joint practice.”

“You have an idea?” Hyunjin asks carefully.

The younger boy expands the picture, so the name printed on the dancer’s sleeve sharpens into view, and his lovely, crescent-eyed smile fills the screen, sparkling despite the poor quality of the photo.

 _Lee Minho_.

Silently, Seungmin tilts his head, deep in thought.

“Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a beta now guys!! big thanks to ray for betaing despite not knowing much about skz other than the fact that jeongin thought america didn't have chicken!! 
> 
> sorry this chapter took so long (again) school is suffering and i'm awful at time management, plus exams are coming up (help) but here!! have more changlix (they're finally going on a DATE, 38k words in) and even MORE seungjin, plus more plotty stuff
> 
> also my brain dragged me into writing a smol seungjin accompaniment piece, and plotting the minsung prequel!! so yeah that'll be out hopefully within the next ten years
> 
> thank you for reading!! comments keep me going ALIVE!! hmu @symmetrophobic on twitter, we can unite as one people to burn internally every time chan flashes his abs during the victory song live perfs
> 
> hope you guys have a great day!!
> 
> EDIT: NONE of yall are surprised that woojin is seungmin's brother huh,, i am ashamed of myself


	13. 012.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> felix has a couple of confessions to make. somehow, the double negative doesn't cancel out, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait guys T_T if...you do a refresher through the last few chapters...thank u ;u;

The lights are low, music pounding like a heartbeat when the boy slips through the crowd, hoodie pulled low over his head. He hates this place, hates the loud music and the lights and the awful entrees. He knows why they have to meet here, sure, but honestly, that just makes him hate the place all the more.

He spots the table before he sees the girl, red-gold cocktail dressed up pretty on the polished wood in front of her, and waves with a wordless smile, sliding right up next to her in the booth.

“Lia,” he murmurs, just audible over the mournful wail of the jazz electric.

“Jisung,” she acknowledges with a barely-there smile, letting him pass by her into the booth. Carefully, she tilts the black band under her sleeve on her wrist towards the speaker, where she knows the bass pounding through the room drowns out every other sound. “Any drinks for you?”

“You know I can’t drink,” Jisung snorts lightly.

“I’m being polite,” she says snidely, before her expression turns serious. “You first?”

Jisung tugs his hood further over his head, leaning back and towards her. Anyone walking by would pass them off as a university couple, sharing a drink to wrap up a night out in town. “NCT’s drafting a plan of action to smoke out the rogue Millennials,” he murmurs. “They’re moving out once they get enough intelligence, probably within the next week, and they’re not going to hold back. They’ve got a couple of warehouses locked down already - they’re going for the ones that attacked the carnival first.”

“The Dream Boys?”

Jisung squints. “The what?”

“That’s what they’re calling themselves,” Lia shrugs. She leans closer as a waiter walks by, voice low and breath warm against his neck. “Well? Are the Dreamies the only ones they’re going after?”

“They’re probably not going to stop until all of them are rounded up. Including those that just joined Jeno. They’re trying to find out which ones are on his side. Once the Dream Boys are out of the picture, they’re probably going to go for the Dynasty and the Silver Boys next.”

“What about the other Unit? SKZ?”

“Not an active threat. At the moment.”

Lia nods once, deep in thought. “Got it. Any other updates?”

Jisung shrugs. “Not right now. Your turn.”

She takes a sip of her drink, left hand still unmoving, and the bittersweet edge clings to her breath when she leans closer. “A couple more joined Jeno today. The MSR wouldn’t know, because they haven’t taken off their Trackers, they’re just waiting for the right moment.”

“How many now?”

“About fifteen, that I know of. Going on twenty pretty fast. Everyone’s terrified because of the videos of what happened at the carnival, and Xiyeon – I’m pretty sure some of them had the idea that the experimentation was going on but I guess this confirms it. And no one’s heard from her since that afternoon, they say-…” she hesitates. “They say they might be torturing her for info on the other Millennials. They wouldn’t…?” She looks at Jisung here, eyes pleading for answers.

“Last I heard, they were questioning her,” the boy mumbles. “I’ve been trying to find out where they’re holding her but they’re keeping quiet on this one. I’ll keep looking. Anything else?”

Lia presses her pretty lips together, sighing, before dropping her voice impossibly lower. “There’s a new Millennial. He’s in Yonsei too, goes by Felix, he’s a friend of a friend of mine. He’s got an Enhancement I’ve never heard of before. When I touched his hand it’s like – like I couldn’t hear anything, for the first time since I Manifested. Everything went quiet,” she lets out a dry chuckle. “I almost forgot what that felt like.”

When Jisung remains quiet, her brows furrow, realisation setting in. “You knew.”

“Wow,” he looks up, smiling weakly. “It’s like you read my mind.”

Lia elbows his ribs. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you. Well? How’d you know about him?”

“He’s a close friend of mine. He doesn’t know that I know,” Jisung clarifies quickly. “He Manifested a couple of weeks ago.”

“A few _weeks_ ago? And he’s just been alone? All this time, no one else to talk to about it?” Lia looks concerned.

“A friend of mine spoke to him. And we’re keeping an eye on him. To make sure he’s safe.”

Lia bites her lip, like there’s something she’s fighting hard not to say. Jisung sits a little straighter. “Why? You heard something?”

She locks eyes with him then, whispering. “Someone’s – some Millennials are after him. The Dynasty,” she takes Jisung’s hand when his eyes widen. “I don’t know why. Jisung you have to promise me,” she urges under her breath. “They can’t get hurt, okay? They’re my friends, I just – I’m telling you this because this Felix guy seems important to you.”

Jisung sinks a little in his seat. “Okay. Yeah, okay. They didn’t say why…?”

“They want something to do with his Enhancement,” Lia whispers. “They think he’s the only one in the world who has it. It’s true, isn’t it?”

The boy remains silent, before sighing. “Probably. Does anyone else know?”

“More than you’d like to know. I was asking around, and I think Raesung let slip that there’s a new Millennial who can stop Enhancements – they don’t know who he is, though,” she pauses, watching Jisung’s reaction carefully. “They’re calling him the Cure.”

Jisung frowns. “They know it only lasts as long as he touches them, right?”

Lia’s expression doesn’t change. “For now.”

That hangs between them for a while, and Jisung retreats further into his hoodie as a group of boys walk past.

“Besides, you know what this means, right?” Lia continues quietly.

Jisung looks up questioningly.

“The Manifestation age isn’t over,” she says, looking away. “It means none of you are safe yet. Any of you guys could still wake up a Millennial tomorrow.”

Jisung hesitates. “Lia, that’s not a bad-…”

“No, Sungie, you don’t get it,” Lia cuts in, hand tightening around her drink. “The only reason why anyone’s ever civil to us is because they think things are stable now, that it can’t get worse. If news about Felix gets out, they’ll know it isn’t, and things are just going to go back to the way they were six years ago, when everyone treated us like time bombs waiting to go off. Plus, didn’t you hear what happened over the recording? And with an Enhancement like his? They’d snatch him right out of Yonsei, strap him down and find a way to cut that Enhancement out of him, just so they can give it to their _Defenders_. Felix _cannot_ get Registered,” she looks back at him, eyes brimming with emotion. “You’ll make sure he won’t, right?”

Jisung squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before sighing. “Yeah. Okay,” he rubs his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face. “The Dynasty. You didn’t – didn’t tell them about Felix, right?”

“No,” Lia shakes her head. “You’re lucky you caught me before I spoke to them. But I’ve got a feeling they’ve already got their own plan – you’d better keep an eye on him.”

“Thanks for the heads up. You heading back to the dorms after this? I can walk you back.”

“It’s okay, I’m meeting a friend,” Lia calls for the tab, before glancing at him. “You? Going to find your boyfriend?”

Jisung shakes his head. “Nah. Not tonight.”

That hangs in the air for a moment, and the girl hesitates. “Something up?”

“I don’t…” Jisung chuckles, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

Lia puts a bill down on the tab, and the waiter drifts away, before she turns to Jisung with concern. “Well, my kakaotalk is open if you ever need to let off some steam.”

“Thanks,” Jisung slumps back into the booth. Lia watches him for a second, before adding quietly.

“Don’t suppose you’d be inclined to tell me where you’re getting all this Defenders intel from, right?”

Jisung barks out a quiet laugh. “Like I said, it’s better that you don’t know.”

“It’s just…you know so much about them and what they’re doing, it’s almost like you’re…” Lia trails off, testing the waters. “One of them.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he smiles wryly. “If I were, then these things wouldn’t be happening to you guys.”

Lia laughs as she stands, still careful to keep the band on her wrist pointing away, and the tension in the air dissipates. “I guess,” she holds out a petulant hand. “Walk me to the bus stop. Let’s talk about normal stuff for once, like school or something.”

The boy slides out of the booth, and Lia leans in one last time, before they leave the bar. “Thanks. For always telling me all this.”

“No problem,” Jisung says quietly. “It’s the least I can do.”

*

Felix checks and re-checks his hair in the mirror for the fifth time, feeling his stomach twist nervously as another notification pings up on his phone. It's Chaeryeong, probably - the other girl has been relentless, pelting him with questions about _well what are you wearing, does it show enough skin_ and _have you cleaned your room, I don't suppose you'll be sexing it up with all your dirty socks on the floor_. It's horrible, Chaeryeong is a horrible friend. 

He freaks out a little as his phone buzzes with a familiar message tone, tossing his sweaty dance clothes and bath towel in the hamper (just in case) before speeding out of the room, just barely remembering to lock the door.

It's pathetic, honestly - Felix has had a lot of firsts (it's not his fault the boys back in Sydney were so cute) but being with Changbin now makes him feel absolutely inexperienced. He'd spent almost twenty minutes scrutinising his pastel pink sweater and denim jacket in the mirror, worrying if he was over or underdressed, if he should wear what he liked or go with the darker colours Changbin was so fond of.

He bounds out of the lift at the first floor, almost bumping into Changbin, and involuntarily, a rush of breath leaves his lips, inconsequential little worries flying out of his head, at the other boy's smile.

"Hyung!" Felix brightens, throwing his arms around the other boy without thinking, getting a whiff of the delicious smelling cologne he'd put on today. Remembering himself, he backs off, pulling open the door to the lift lobby to hide his embarrassment. "Let's go, I'm starved."

"Tell me about it," Changbin laughs as they leave, heading towards the bus stop. "I haven't eaten a thing all day."

They spend the subway ride taking turns to complain about different things: Felix about Minho's ridiculous new choreo and how he ditches them to hang out with the Seoul Uni elitists all the time, and Changbin about his tyrannical superior at work and how stressful the season is getting.

Felix knows a lot of things about Changbin by this point - he knows that Changbin loves music, loves his friends, loves unhealthy midnight convenience store getaways and walking back to dorm after missing the last campus shuttle bus. He loves steaming hot ddeokbokki and oden in paper cups more than shortcakes and ice cream, but doesn’t mind a really good taro bubble tea now and then, if the pearls are chewy enough. He loves white grape soju but hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since the start of this year.

“You study science, right?” Changbin grunts as they get off the subway, heading towards the chicken place. “Why does all the shit that’s bad for us taste so good?”

Felix thinks about the long evolutionary explanation involving caloric scarcity and rapid urbanisation, and how that’d turned his ex-boyfriend off on their second date back in Sydney. “I wouldn’t know about that, I hear white boba is zero calorie.”

It’s an ethereal experience, almost, squabbling over chicken flavours (garlic cheese rub is superior, trust heathen like Changbin to choose gochujang), sides orders (anyone who likes kimchi fries unironically cannot be trusted) and who gets to pay (Changbin grabs it before Felix can argue, saying he can just pay next time). Felix toys with the buzzer while they wait, talking about school.

“Sorry we haven’t been around these few days,” Changbin apologises, taking out paper napkins from the dispenser at the table. “Have you been lunching with your fac friends?”

“Yeah, Chaeryeong invited me to lunch with her and the girls,” Felix says, rolling his eyes a little at the thought of that day.

“Oof, what’s with the reaction,” the older boy grins. “I thought you liked Chaeryeong?”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend here! I’m just...not that big a fan of some of her friends,” Felix mumbles.

“Why? Were they mean to you?” Changbin raises a brow.

Felix thinks of Yehee, and winces again. “No, just...a little opinionated, I guess.”

“What’d they say?”

“Nothing, dumb things,” Felix waves it away, mumbling. “Just stuff about the Millennials, and the carnival, it’s just – whatever.”

“Ah,” Changbin lets out a commiserating sigh. “Yeah, I get you. Jisung got pretty wound up over everything people have been saying, too.”

“How’s Jisung been?” Felix asks worriedly, shelving his own thoughts for the moment. He thinks back to that conversation they’d had together at the carnival about the Millennials – the current situation must’ve hit him pretty hard.

“He’s okay,” Changbin hesitates, before sighing. “He and Minho, uhm, they had a fight. Last weekend, after the carnival,” he rolls his eyes a little. “I think they were just tired, or something, Minho said something and Jisung got mad at him, Sungie didn’t go into the specifics when we talked about it. They’re not – not _breaking up_ , or anything, just,” Changbin reassures Felix. “Just taking a break for a while.”

Felix is floored, for a moment – just a couple of _weeks_ ago, they’d been laughing and clinging onto each other at lunch. “Was it…about the Millennials?”

Changbin half-shrugs, half-nods at that. “It’d be good if you could call him up to talk him through it, he’d probably open up more to you. I mean, I’m not in much of a position to empathise, you know? With what happened at the carnival, and everything.”

That rings a bell, then – the _carnival_ …

“Hey, hyung,” he mumbles, toying with the napkins. “At the carnival…” he glances across the table, not sure how to say this. “When you had to leave-…”

“Oh,” Changbin cuts in, suddenly nervous. “Well. About that. You got out safe in the end, right?”

Felix frowns slightly. “Where’d you…have to go?”

“It was – a thing. We had to settle something at the carnival, one of Jisung’s friends,” there’s this manner of speaking Changbin has when he’s talking about this, like he’s trying to swallow or rush through certain words. He’s a terrible liar, and it’s strange, the way that makes Felix just fall for him harder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

It’s painfully obvious that he’s trying to hide something, and though Felix supposes he should be feeling hurt, there’s a note of misery in Changbin’s expression that makes him seem oddly…genuine about it. Like he really and honestly couldn’t tell Felix what was on his mind.

_What could it be? What can’t you tell me?_

The image of Chan’s face during the incident with the phone cameras flits through his mind, then. “Is someone not letting you talk about it?”

“What? No, really, it’s just-…” For a moment, hesitation crosses Changbin’s face, like the dam in his mind is splintering under the pressure, this close to cracking. “I can’t-…”

“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable,” Felix says, then, not knowing exactly why he does. This is the closest he’s been to knowing, to understanding the elephant in the room that seems to pop up whenever one of these little incidents happen. “I was just worried about you.”

Changbin quietens, then, and all of a sudden he appears smaller, wearier, like the weight of the world is on his back. “I’ll tell you. Soon. Just-…not today.”

Felix nods once. “Okay.”

The older boy smiles, then, the shame in his dark eyes morphing into something softer. “Thank you. For understanding.”

“Anything for you, hyung,” Felix smiles, hoping it conveys the weight of what he actually feels, as the buzzer goes off, and Changbin stands quickly, saying he’ll get the food. Things return to normal once he’s back, complaining about the rude server and the lack of plastic gloves, and the tinge of regret at the bottom of Felix’s chest melts away with the sound of Changbin’s laughter.

*

The night ends as all good ones should, with a cup of quality bubble tea each. They sit at the benches below Felix’s dorm, under the ridiculous mini canopies and the soft lamplight, talking about whatever comes to mind.

“You know I’ve never met someone who pours rather than dips?” Changbin pokes a bit of boba out from under a block of ice with his straw. “Is that a thing in Australia?”

“No, it’s a thing with _me_ ,” Felix grumbles, doing the same. “You know I did that when I was eating out with the dance crew once and half of them screamed at me from across the table? You’d think pouring was a crime, or something.”

Changbin throws his head back and laughs, and Felix fights the urge to swoon on the spot – how could any man with a laugh _this_ attractive still be single?

There’s a buzzing noise, then, and Changbin pulls a black phone out of his pocket, checking it for a moment. Felix can’t help but peek over, wondering if it’s the one with the sandpapered cameras. But Changbin lets out a sigh of relief, quickly pushing it back into his pocket.

“It was nice, tonight, doing this,” he smiles, and Felix hates the way he momentarily loses all control of his verbal processing after that. “We should do this again, sometime.”

“Yeah, we should,” Felix’s mouth goes dry. In the semi-darkness, after everything that’s happened tonight, with just the two of them, he suddenly feels overwhelmed with the urge to just…lean over and kiss Changbin. Would it be wrong? Would he want it too? He’d asked him out on this date, surely…?

But he can’t. Not without coming clean about who he is first. It wouldn’t be fair to Changbin, to keep him in the dark – even if there were things Changbin didn’t want to tell him either.

“Hey,” he says, but with his throat all frozen up, it comes out like a breath. “Could you – could you follow me up to my room? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Changbin looks surprised, but he nods. It’s almost like he _knows_ , when he follows Felix towards the lift lobby without another word.

The younger boy’s heart is pounding during the journey up – this is it. This would make or break their relationship. This could lose Felix everything, not just a chance at dating Changbin, but their friendship, too.

He silently (grudgingly) thanks Chaeryeong for pestering him to clean up once he opens the door and flicks on the lights.

“A single room, huh,” Changbin comments, toeing off his shoes before he steps in, and the door eases shut behind them. There’s a smile on his face as he looks around, taking in the photos tacked up on the closet doors, and the textbooks stacked on the mattress. “Doesn’t it get a little lonely sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Felix mumbles, pulling a makeup wipe from the pack on his table. “But it’s okay.”

“I could drop by some nights,” the other boy suggests, picking up a stuffed toy and admiring it. “We could study together, if you'd like?”

“Yeah,” Felix lets out a nervous chuckle, taking a deep breath, before turning to face Changbin.

The older boy mirrors him, stuffed toy forgotten on the bed, and again, Felix gets the chilling sensation that he’s just waiting for him to say what he already knows.

“Remember that - the first explosion? Near school, a few months back?” he says nervously. It’s just the two of them now, face to face in this little room, the eyes of the world locked away outside.

Changbin nods once, expression unchanging. “Yeah.”

“I wasn’t being honest with you. When I said I just heard about it,” Felix’s breath stutters in his chest. _Fuck_ , why is this so difficult? “I was there. There was an explosion, and the Millennials were there and-…” His arm freezes up for a moment, still reeling from the shock and trauma of that day.

Changbin’s still there, though, and Felix wonders how he still looks so calm, like he understands perfectly. “Yeah?”

“Something happened,” Felix barely whispers. Squeezing his eyes shut, like he’s bracing for impact, raising the wipe. “I don’t know how, or what happened, but there was this light, and everything hurt for a while, and when I opened my eyes again-…” he runs it down his left cheek, feeling his heart skip a beat when he sees the foundation smeared on the white surface, not daring to look up. “I Manifested. I’m a Millennial.”

He hears a footstep, and he looks up, flinching instinctively. There’s a gentle, certain sort of look on Changbin’s face when he takes the wipe from Felix’s hand, raising it, before carefully pressing away the rest of the foundation on Felix’s other cheek, the skin tingling in the cool air once he lifts the cotton pad away.

“Is this,” Felix croaks out. “Is it okay?”

Changbin presses a thumb to Felix’s cheek, brushing it over the pale blizzard twirling through his freckles, leaving warm tingles everywhere he touches. There’s a look in his eyes that’s almost like awe. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He’s so close, inches away now, and Felix can smell the sugar on his breath from the drink just now, can see the cosmos twinkling in his diamond eyes, burning with life, now looking right back at him. Right now, in the silence of this tiny, empty room, Felix thinks he could just be in love.

The older boy’s expression changes, then, into something more conflicted. “Felix, I – there’s something I need to tell you too. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but things got in the way, and I – I wasn’t sure if you were ready.”

Felix nods, slightly lost. “Yeah, of course, hyung.”

Changbin glances away, biting down on his lower lip. “At the-…at the ca-…”

That’s the moment a loud klaxon blares through the room, making Felix jump, just as Changbin groans, wrestling his phone out of his pocket to shut it off. “No, _no_ , for fuck’s sake, I’m _off duty,_ ” he barks at the device, before turning back to Felix, who’s starting to find the flustered look on the older boy’s face quite funny. “I’m _so_ sorry, I just need to take this _really quick_ and I’ll-…”

Felix doesn’t think, then.

Instead he crosses the little space left between them in one movement, leaning in and pressing his lips to Changbin’s, the ghost of a giggle slipping out at the way the older boy inhales in surprise, hands wrapping around Felix’s but not pushing him away – rather, pulling him closer, drifting around his waist.

Felix pulls away, smiling shyly at the stunned look on Changbin’s face. “Is this…is it okay?”

A breathy chuckle of disbelief leaves the older boy’s lips, and in a moment he’s pulling Felix back in for another kiss, laughing against his lips, strong arms wrapping him up in a hug, and inflating the balloon of happiness that’s found its way into Felix’s chest. His phone goes off again, but he shuts it off without looking at it.

“Was I that obvious?” he asks breathlessly, once they part for air, and Felix laughs.

“Well, you kind of asked me out on a date,” he shrugs. “That was a pretty big hint.”

“I just – didn’t know for sure, if you wanted it too, you know?” Changbin murmurs, taking Felix’s hand. Their fingers interlace naturally, finding each other through a hundred trials and errors that last barely a split second, eventually settling like they’ve been doing this all their lives.

"What, was all my fawning for nothing?"

"You were so friendly with everyone, I just thought-..." the older boy shrugs, looking embarrassed. “So are we-…?”

“Boyfriends?” The word rolls strangely off Felix’s tongue – he’s never had to do this in Korean, before. Changbin chuckles, leaning in to press one more kiss on Felix’s lips.

Then the phone goes off again, except this time, it blares twice, before cutting to static.

“ _Seo Changbin?”_ A voice cuts through the room sharply.

Felix should know better, by this time, he supposes, but he isn’t able to keep his mouth shut in time. “Chan?” he says aloud, confused.

Changbin swears under his breath, fumbling with the phone, which has suddenly gone silent. “I’m _really_ so sorry, I gotta go, but we’ll be picking up right where we left off like, tomorrow, okay?” He grabs his bag, heading out of the room, still holding the phone like it’s a ticking time bomb, and Felix can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah,” Felix nods, grinning at the scathing look Changbin sends him, before the other boy slips out.

He’s surprised when voices don’t immediately follow, no sign that Changbin had picked up Chan’s call, and curiosity gets the better of him in a second. He hesitates, before crossing the room to open the door, and his eyes widen.

Felix pokes his head out, staring down an empty, silent corridor, before he lets the door ease shut, wondering what exactly it was, that’d just happened.

*

Sneakers squeak against the polished floor as bags are grabbed, waterbottles snatched at, laughter filling the airy atrium.

“What’s with the long face?”

Minho looks up, blinking, not even realising he’d sighed out loud. He stows his phone in his back pocket right away, the chat box he’d been refreshing still stagnant on a message from five days ago. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like a nothing,” one of the girls is grinning. “Is it your boyfriend? _C’mon,_ oppa,” she gestures with both arms, sidling over next to him. “It’s a safe space to bitch here.”

“Nothing to bitch about, he’s just busy,” Minho laughs, pushing her away, though his mood just worsens at that. “So are we eating or not? I’m starved.”

“Minho hyung?”

Minho looks up, at the boy walking over from the bookstore. The whole area’s almost deserted now, save for them – obviously, no one’s going to be here at this time so late in the semester. He blinks again – _sorry, am I supposed to know you_?

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Seungmin, we met at ArtSpace last month!” The boy beams. Minho cracks his brain, waving distractedly to his crew as they yell out something about heading off first, trying to remember when he’d met the boy. He was at the arts festival last month, sure, but he didn’t remember meeting this guy at all…maybe? He’s got the kind of face you’d see around everywhere.

The last footstep echoes through the atrium as the rest leave, and Minho works a smile on his face. “Ah, yeah, of course,” he holds out a hand, scrambling to cover up the confusion on his face, not wanting to be rude. “It’s great seeing you again.”

But then the boy grips his hand with a surprising strength, a quirk to the edge of his soft lips. “ _The pleasure’s all mine_.”

It’s difficult to describe what happens in that moment – the world _fragments_ and reconfigures in a split second, like a rotation through a kaleidoscope, and Minho freezes up, body going perfectly still.

“ _You have beautiful eyes, Minho,_ ” His _voice_ – it sounds like a harp, like stardust, falling to the earth between them, permeating Minho’s lungs with every breath. The boy smiles, soft hair falling into his eyes over his delicate round-frame glasses, the picture of schoolboy innocence. _“Can I see them?”_

Part of him is trying to run, struggling in fear, but the cries for help are stifled when he looks into the other boy’s eyes, into the inky, rich darkness that feels like it’s swallowing his soul up, smothering any remaining resistance. “Yes.”

“ _There’s something I want_ ,” the boy’s voice lowers into a murmur, until it’s all he hears, all he feels, echoing in his head over and over. “ _Do you think you could help me get it?”_

This time, Minho’s mouth moves on autopilot. “Yes.”

“ _Good, good,”_ the voice is cloying like perfume, filling his head like smoke. “ _All I need,”_ again, that same soft, unassuming smile brands itself in Minho’s mind, everything else fading in comparison. “ _Is for you to do everything I tell you, okay?_ ”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heLLO to anyone who's still here!!
> 
> EXAMS ARE OVER!!! which means i can finally write again yay!!! might be posting more fic that i accidentally started over the course of this sem and wrote to procrastinate during my exams (there's...a changlix gym au, a 2jin office au, some minsung and a woolix apocalypse au,,, and 100000000 woochans)
> 
> honestly thank you for your patience guys ;u; reading your comments gave me lots of strength to finish this chapter (and write everything else) i hope you guys like this chapter and all the rEvElaTioNs (i meant to split it up into a double update but couldn't find a good place to cut it so here guys have a 5k update :"")) rly excited to hear your theories hehe!! sorry there's no hyunjin this chapter but he will Return soon :))
> 
> so things will be progressing pretty fast now that changbin Knows and im excited to write some DRAMA again so hope u guys look forward to that!!
> 
> updates on surrender and other fics will be posted on my writing twt @symmetrophobic, dm me and let's be moots!! love u guys yay


	14. 013.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s something I want,” the boy’s voice lowers into a murmur, until it’s all he hears, all he feels, echoing in his head over and over. “Do you think you could help me get it?”
> 
> This time, Minho’s mouth moves on autopilot. “Yes.”
> 
> “Good, good,” the voice is cloying like perfume, filling his head like smoke. “All I need,” again, that same soft, unassuming smile brands itself in Minho’s mind, everything else fading in comparison. “Is for you to do everything I tell you, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will be posting a short snippet from the previous chapter in the summary from now on as a refresher! but hopefully my posting schedule will improve :""") as always big thanks to ray for betaing despite not knowing much about skz other than the fact that changbin is shorter than both of us

“Where are we going again?”

Felix presses his face to the window, quickly cleaning the glass with his jacket sleeve when his breath, warm with alcohol, fogs it up.

“Altitude. It’s a club,” Minho says, sniffing unconcernedly as he scrolls through his Instagram feed beside Felix in the back of the cab. “A friend of mine’s working there. We’re meeting the rest at the entrance.”

“They said they’d join?” Felix says, surprised.

“Yeah, Changbin was pretty insistent on tagging along. What’s the point, right, if you’re not even going to drink?” Minho rolls his eyes. “Then suddenly Chan wanted to come, too.”

_And Jisung, but I guess we’re not talking about him now._

“Not too busy now, I guess,” Felix prods, with a hesitant laugh. Minho snorts.

“That, or Lover Boy’s just getting overprotective,” the older boy says snidely. Felix turns red at that, glancing at Minho for confirmation.

“What do you…?”

“You and Changbin, huh? Don’t _worry_ ,” Minho croons, when Felix’s eyes widen. “I approve entirely, thanks for saving our Binnie from a lifetime of celibacy.”

“How’d you-…” Felix splutters. _Chaeryeong, definitely._ “How’d you know? It’s barely been a couple of _days_ -…”

“I know everything, ‘Lixie,” Minho pats Felix’s hair. “Nice getup tonight, by the way,” he tugs at Felix’s leather jacket, and the artfully ripped black shirt under it, before tapping the younger boy’s cheek, like one would with a child. “Use protection, okay baby?”

Felix grumbles, pushing his hand away, but relieved that Minho seems to be alright with the idea of the two of them being together. 

The club is packed by the time they get in, Felix feeling an undeniable flutter of satisfaction at being able to skip the queue just by flashing Minho’s VIP passes. Felix wanders behind Minho, barely listening to what he’s saying about meeting the others here, when he bumps into a solid shoulder.

“Hey there.”

At least, those are the words that Changbin’s mouth form, lost in the pounding bass. He’s grinning, having swapped out his usual hoodie for a leather jacket and skinnies tonight. His rings, bands of warm metal, press lightly against Felix’s fingers when the older boy reaches down to hold his hand.

Felix brightens, reaching over for a hug, getting a whiff of whichever amazing cologne Changbin’s decided to use today. “I missed you.”

“We just saw each other this afternoon,” the older boy laughs.

“Yeah, well, not soon enough,” Felix huffs when they part. A couple of steps away, he can see Minho retching in the lowlights, throwing a faux disgusted look in their direction. Chan’s talking to Jisung, who’s conspicuously on Chan’s other side rather than next to Minho, both looking bored and slightly put off by the club scene.

“You didn’t pre-drink?” Felix frowns, lower lip pushed out. “Going to a club without drinking is no fun, you realise how dumb everyone looks, then.”

“Maybe that’s the fun of it,” Changbin shrugs, before laughing. “I can’t drink. You guys have fun, I just want to be here because you are.”

“Your sacrifice will be remembered,” Felix raises a brow. “Why are Chan and Jisung here, then? Minho told me you guys always turn down his club invites.”

Changbin leans over, then, whispering right in Felix’s ear. “Chan and I are trying to get Jisung and Minho to make up. I think Minho knows this, because he wasn’t all too hot about us coming tonight,” he chuckles. “If they disappear halfway throughout tonight, you know what happened.”

Slightly more comforted, Felix takes Changbin’s hand again, pulling him back towards the rest of the group. “Let’s go!”

“Thank fuck, I thought you guys were going to start making out in the entranceway,” Minho returns to his phone, as they make their way down the corridor towards the bar. The music is getting progressively louder, lights going lower, with every step.

“Don’t tempt me,” Felix sticks out his tongue, and Changbin laughs again.

The dancefloor is almost fully packed once they’re there, the bar littered with empty glasses, and music that’s actually not all that bad, but Felix follows the rest dutifully. Minho bumps into a couple of their friends from the crew at the fringe of the dance floor, greeting them with a smile, and Jisung excuses himself to the bathroom. Felix is about to follow him, when he sees Chan gesturing.

“Here’s the plan,” he says, once they’re out of range, right by Felix’s ear. Even then, he’s barely audible. “We made Jisung promise to ask Minho for a dance tonight. According to what our friend said, the club usually clears out a little by 1am, because that’s when the free drinks for the girls end, so we’ll try for then. In the meantime, you and Changbin stick to Jisung, and I’ll be with Minho. Roger that?”

“Got it, over,” Felix mimics, trying not to shout. It’s nice, he thinks, how much Changbin and Chan want them to get back together. “Can Jisung dance?”

Chan seems to consider this for a moment, as though he hadn’t thought of it before. “No,” he shouts back. “But Minho might appreciate the laugh anyway. Alright, let’s go.”

Felix glues himself to Changbin, giggling as he stumbles over someone’s shoes, heading across the dancefloor to get to the washrooms on the other side. “Stay close,” Changbin turns back to say, wincing as someone almost elbows his face. “It’s so _crowded_.”

“It’s a _club_ , hyung,” Felix retorts, holding on tight anyway. It’s true, though, the floor really is packed tonight, and the blue strobe lights make it look like an ocean, the sea of heads flashing in and out of view, moving to the beat. 

Across the floor, then, something catches Felix’s eye – or rather, someone. Beyond the sea of people in the sunken pit, a boy stands perfectly still near the private rooms, arms folded across his chest, black mask covering half his face. Above the dark fabric, his eyes glitter watchfully, fixed on Felix like a sniper.

Felix shivers involuntarily, drawing closer to Changbin, feeling the pale flecks on his face prickle from anxiety.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Felix shouts, willing the image of that boy out of his mind. Suddenly, the dancefloor evokes claustrophobia rather than excitement, and all he wants is to get out on the other side. Is it just him, or does it feel like someone’s following them? “I hope we find Jisung soon.”

“We’re almost there,” Changbin squints, pushing through a knot of people.

It’s almost a full thirty seconds before the current of people is left behind, and it’s finally possible to breathe again. Changbin inhales deeply, wincing at the sting of alcohol in the air. “So once we get to Jisung, ‘Lixie-…”

He stops, having turned around. “Felix?”

There’s no one behind him.

His heart rate picks up, breathing suddenly coming harder to him, as he cranes his neck to look over the crowd.

“Felix!” Changbin cups his hands around his mouth to shout, eyes wide, heart pounding in his ears over the bass of the music. Then he pushes back into the dance floor, everything else forgotten. “Felix, where are you!”

*

“Hyung!” Felix stumbles through the walls of moving bodies, anchored only by the steel grip around his wrist. “What’s going on? Where are we going?”

Minho doesn’t reply, just keeps pulling. For a moment, Felix panics, wondering if this is something to do with Jisung. _Where’s Chan? Isn’t he supposed to be with Minho?_

They’re almost at the other end, now, near the private rooms deeper into the club, and Minho doesn’t stop pulling even after they clear the dancefloor, tugging him into the corridor. Felix looks around nervously, at the fading red and gold wallpaper intended to give the club some misplaced sense of grandeur, and the deep black carpet that absorbs all their footsteps, his free hand gathered to his chest, looking back to see if he can see Changbin or the others. In the darkness, though, it’s near impossible.

“Hyung, what’s going _on?_ ”

Then he sees the girl. Standing outside one of the doors, half her face covered in the black mask, and suddenly Felix’s heart shoots into his throat, and he tugs with all his might, terror racing through his veins.

“ _Hyung_ , let me _go_ , please let me go-…”

But Minho’s always been stronger than him, and grip is so tight now that Felix’s hand is white and numb.

Then the door opens.

“ _Stop moving._ ”

Felix freezes. His heart is still pounding in his chest, blood roaring in his ears, but he can’t move. Something primal, set deep within him, is willing him to obey.

“ _Come inside,”_ the voice is soft, inviting, and the music fades when it speaks, as though giving way to a higher power. “ _We’ve been waiting for you._ ”

Felix straightens. Then, hand slipping out of Minho’s grasp, he walks willingly into the room, expression unchanging even as the door slides shut silently behind him.

*

“Where’ve you been?” Chan tugs Changbin aside to a quieter corner of the club, where they can at least speak without shouting everything.

“I lost Felix,” Changbin runs a hand though his hair, still feeling panicked. “One second he was behind me and the next-…”

“Whoa, Binnie, calm down, maybe he ran into a couple of friends and you left before he could tell you,” Chan says reassuringly. “No reason to panic.”

“Where’s Minho?”

“I think he left with his friends,” the older boy sighs. “After I finished talking to you guys, I turned around and he was gone. There goes our plan, I guess.”

“I don’t know, hyung,” Changbin presses his hands down under his arms. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. What if something happened to Felix?”

“Let’s keep looking. He’s probably with the other dancers,” Chan rubs Changbin’s back. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs to the mezzanine, we can probably see better from there.”

*

When the world swirls back into view, the first thing Felix sees is a grey ceiling with a peeling vent. He’s lying on a plush leather couch, and the air is cold, music still pounding faintly in his ears.

He sits up immediately, looking around, chest constricting in fear when he sees the two boys on the couch opposite him.

One of them looks like any other university student – an innocent schoolboy face, styled, soft brown hair, and fashionably minimalistic clothes. Then Felix looks at the other one, and all the fear comes rushing back.

“You,” he stutters, withdrawing into himself slightly. “From the fire.”

The boy’s expression sours slightly, beautifully angled dark eyes looking bored. “I’ve been in a few. You’re going to have to be specific.”

“Hyunjin,” the other boy sighs, elbowing him. “Sorry about what happened just now,” he smiles, a soft, sleepy apology. “I was scared you’d run.”

The immediate memories of what’d happened just minutes ago come rushing back. “Minho, is he-…?”

“Your friend is fine, we just borrowed him for a while, he’s going back to your other friends now,” the schoolboy says, a polite smile on his face. “I hope we didn’t hurt you.”

Felix glances down at his wrist, seeing the bruising already starting to form. Seeing that they haven’t tried to hurt him or tie him down yet, he feels brave enough to chance the question. “I’m sorry but…who are you? What do you want with me?”

“My name is Seungmin, this is Hyunjin,” the other boy seems perfectly content to field these questions. “We are Millennials. Just like you.”

 _They know._ Felix’s eyes dart down to their wrists, then, and the noticeable lack of a black band. Hyunjin lets out a derisive breath.

“Unregistered…?” Felix chances. _Rogue_ , is what his head supplies, but he leaves that out, frankly preferring to get out of this alive.

“What an astute observation,” Seungmin smiles again. “I was never Registered. Hyunjin cut his Tracker when he escaped from the Institution.”

“What are your...Enhancements?” Felix ventures, though he’s pretty sure he knows already.

“Mine’s called the Charm. People want to listen when I talk to them," Seungmin quirks a smile. "It’s helped me evade detection since I was a child. And Hyunjin’s is called Children of the Grave. He can create force fields.”

 _That’s not the only thing he can do_ , Felix thinks, at the concealed look on Hyunjin’s face. _He knows I’ve seen it first-hand._

“Are you with Jeno?”

Seungmin flinches slightly, but Hyunjin’s expression doesn’t change when he answers. “No.”

“You don’t think the Millennials should be free?”

“Of course we do,” Hyunjin replies. Just barely, his pretty eyes twitch, like he’s trying not to roll them. “Just not like this.”

The room falls into an oppressive silence after this. Speaking above the fear in Felix is an unmistakeable note of desperation to know more, to understand the first people he might actually agree with, _people like him_.

But above all, the unasked question hangs in the air like a guillotine. _So what does any of this have to do with me?_

“You have a very special Enhancement, do you know that, Felix?” Seungmin says quietly.

 _Play dumb, or acknowledge_? “Is that so?” Felix settles for saying stiffly, instead.

“Don’t pretend,” Hyunjin says lazily, then. “You wouldn’t have kept it hidden this well if you didn’t know.”

Seungmin nudges the other boy again, who falls silent, still watching Felix with a strange look in his eyes.

“You’re the only one in the world who has it. Probably the only one who ever will,” he says softly, but boldly. It’s strikingly similar to the way Woojin had said it, Felix realises – the same gentle, straightforward honesty. “That makes you a target.”

Felix swallows, trying not to look as afraid as he feels. He speaks in a small voice, probably the first fully honest thing he’s said tonight: “I know.”

“Your chances aren’t good on your own,” Seungmin continues, just the slightest hint of a warning in his voice this time. “Trust me. The other Millennials know, and if they do, the Defenders’ organisation’s probably caught wind of it too. You’d be better off with people like you. People like us.”

“What are you suggesting?” Felix asks, voice still tight.

Hyunjin leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Join us,” he says. In the darkness, his fingertips dissolve into smoke, flickering when he drums them against each other. “It’s better than being alone.”

_And if I don’t?_

“If you choose not to, then we won’t stop you from walking out of this room right now, and never bother you again,” Seungmin says, like he’d read Felix’s mind. “I promise.”

 _This_ puts Felix in a spot. On one hand, he barely knows who they are, much less if he can trust them with the biggest secret of his life.

But on the other, this could be his first chance at talking to someone about this. His first chance to unload all the weight off his shoulders and find a friend. And it's true - if they know who he is, then there's no telling when everyone else is going to find out too. He won't stand a chance on his own.

Then Hyunjin catches his eye. The boy is watching him, soft lips pursed, angular eyes watching him with a well-hidden mix of apprehension and wistfulness. His next words are almost whispered, so soft Felix almost doesn’t catch it. “It must’ve been hard for you. All by yourself.”

 _It was_. Felix swallows hard again, wringing his hands on his knees. “I have a question.”

“Fire away,” Seungmin says, not without a hint of curiosity.

The other boy shifts in his seat, leaning forward, pressing his palms into the seam of his ripped jeans. “What…is it that you want, exactly?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flick to Seungmin’s, a warning hidden within, but the other Millennial is preoccupied with something else. He frowns, reaching over to Felix, delicate hand lifting the flap of his jacket, which had shifted when Felix moved.

Carefully, the quiet _click-click_ of metal breaking the silence, he lifts out a chain, and the dull, worn dog tag attached at the end.

*

Jisung worms his way through a knot of people, making a face when one of them elbows him a little too hard to be accidental. _Fuck_ , he really hates clubs – even if he _could_ drink, he definitely wouldn’t do it here.

His stomach somersaults at the sight of a familiar back and head of dark hair. It’s now or never. Even if Changbin and Chan aren’t here to support him (like they said they would be, those snakes), it’s better to just get this over with.

He swallows, inhaling deeply and walking over, gritting his teeth into a smile.

“Hyung?”

Minho doesn’t turn around, still resolutely staring into the dancefloor.

 _Okay, so he’s ignoring me_. _I can handle that._ Jisung raises his voice a little. “Hyung, it’s me. We – we should talk.”

Still no response. Payback for the past week, Jisung supposes. “Look, I’m really, really sorry about what happened last week. I was tired, and I know that’s no excuse,” he winces, running a hand through his hair. “Things have just been really bad lately, and you always tell me I can lean on you, but I’m just always so scared you won't understand. And I guess it all came out last Saturday. But I thought it over and I know I was stupid to blow up. I’m sorry,” he finishes lamely. “Can we make up?”

 _Still nothing_. Jisung frowns, more confused now than anything. This is usually the part where Minho hits him over the head, and tells him not to be so dumb next time. He reaches out hesitantly, tugging the older boy on the shoulder. “Hyung?”

Minho turns around without resistance, the first sign that something’s wrong.

The next thing Jisung notices is the blank look in his eyes, like he’s looking at something Jisung can’t see.

“Hyung?” the younger boy repeats, louder this time, grabbing both shoulders. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

The dancer finally seems to snap out of it, blinking in confusion, rubbing his eyes – the second sign. Minho _never_ touches his face when he has makeup on. “Sungie? What’s going on?”

Jisung immediately looks around, gaze flying from one face to another, rage building at the back of his throat at the prospect of someone _daring_ to drug his boyfriend.

“Where are we?” Minho asks again. He sounds like he’s just woken up – anyone else might just pass it off as him having one too many drinks, but Jisung knows better. And the more he thinks about it, the less sense it makes – Minho clubs more than all of them combined, he definitely knows better than to accept drinks from people he doesn’t trust. _So why…?_

Jisung leans in, frowning, staring into Minho’s eyes.

Then he peels away, breath hammering in his lungs, pulling Minho away from the dance floor and towards the exit, wrestling his phone out of his pocket.

“What’s going on?” Minho asks again, sounding progressively more lucid with every step, and also more afraid. “Sungie?”

“Chan hyung!” Jisung barks down the phone the moment the call goes through. “Where’s Changbin? Is he with you?”

“ _Yeah? Sungie what’s wrong-…_ ”

“Minho’s been Charmed,” Jisung bites out, feeling something horrible bubble up in him at the prospect. “We need to leave now. Where’s Felix?”

There’s a deathly silence on the other end. The youngest Defender actually comes to a stop near the exit, feeling his blood turn to ice as a warning echoes in his head.

_They’ve already got their own plan – you’d better keep an eye on him._

“Guys?” he repeats, slowly. “Where is Felix?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heLLO to everyone who's still here!!!!
> 
> this is my written apology for the two month break OTL i rewrote this chapter like 3 times, in the end i cut it shorter bc it was getting too long, but hopefully this means the next one will come out sooner! 
> 
> ngl i also had a bit of writer's block with this fic for a while, hence the slew of other fics posted in the meantime :""") i started a woochan canon chaptered sick!fic [actus reus ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769333) that's got about 3-4 more chapters to go, and also a 2jin office!au [conflict of interest ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394500)! c-comments and kudos will be appreciated (??) ily guys
> 
> reading your comments really gives me strength!!! to write the chapters, as always they will be super appreciated here ;u; let me know what you guys think!! and any questions u have ;u;
> 
> i'm also currently finishing a woochan spinoff for this au, updates on postings will be up on the shiny new writing twitter account i just made yay @symmetrophobic!! (lemme tell yall going back to edit all my author's notes for this was a Pain) let's yell about cute skz stuff together ;u; like hyunjin shoving seungmin's camera to the ground out of love uwu


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